Bad Influence
by FoxChaos
Summary: Pezberry AU. Rachel has a habit for attracting trouble, Santana's a witch who doubles as a hermit, and Raza's Santana's cat that just won't let her wallow. So when Rachel knocks on Santana's door and into her life Santana is ready to help her once and kick her out. Too bad her cat seems to like the little diva, and is too much of a brat to let it go.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Bad Influence

Author: Foxchaos

Fandom: Glee (Au!)

Pairing: Pezberry (and probs some others along the way)

Chapter 1: "In Which the Cat is Friendly, Santana is Intrigued, and Rachel Has Selective Hearing"

Rated M, for Santana's vulgarity and future perverseness (and possible sexytimes?)

_Word Count: +4,600_

_((A/N: Special thanks to Purrpickle for going along with my crazy and also being my first beta reader. Hopefully you all will be as intrigued by this odd story as she is. Enjoy =). Chapter 2 is on the way within the next 48 hours-ish, depending on how much I get done tonight. Also, pardon my Latin, as I am not fluent. I won't be using it too often, so as to save your poor eyes, but it will make an appearance every once in awhile.))_

* * *

It had taken Rachel an hour and a half to get from the Tisch campus to Queens, which was an hour and 20 minutes too long because she was seriously beginning to regret her decision and thinking about turning around and just heading back to her dorm - or possibly visiting her fathers instead. Just as she was about to turn on her heel and head back to the bus stop, there was a loud clang just off to her left and a garbage can toppled over. Taking a breath to ease her nerves, the petite brunette steeled herself and took out her phone, looking at the directions her Navigation app gave her, and took a left.

Another 30 minutes later and she was standing in front of an old, Victorian-styled house - which was honestly huge as far as she could tell from the front; two stories, and probably an attic, with a large porch that was mostly hidden by somewhat-kept shrubs and varying plants that Rachel honestly didn't recognize. Overall the house seemed… aged. And there was a weird kind of energy around that both unnerved the girl and somehow made her feel safe.

She wasn't sure how that worked, but at the sound of another trash can crashing just to her left, she decided it didn't matter. She hurried up the stone walkway, skipping the two steps to the porch altogether, and was in front of the old oak and glass door before any more thoughts could rattle through her head.

Of course, now that she was here, all her worries and misgivings returned full-force.

She took a deep breath, straightened her shoulders, and knocked.

After a few minutes passed with no reply, she tried again, harder this time, and more than once.

Another couple of minutes, and now Rachel was getting fidgety. _This was a horrible idea. Stupid really. What if she isn't even home? Are people looking? _She glanced around, trying to reassure herself that at high noon everyone was at work or inside. _I should leave… But I can't leave. Well, I mean, I could of course, but for all intents and purposes I can't. She's the only one I know that could possibly help with this. And I don't think I can go another night… Right. Okay. You are Rachel Barbra Berry and you do not quit. You are going to stay right here, knock on this door, and get this all fixed._

With that, she knocked again, even harder, waited a few seconds, knocked, and-

"AY Dios mio! Hold your fricken horses for fuck's sake!" The yell startled Rachel, and she quickly put her raised fist down and tightly clasped her hands in front of her. Momentarily, she wondered what the point of censoring yourself once was if you were only going to swear a few words later, but she didn't have time to finish that thought when the door swung open with a _whoosh, _and there, standing before her with a sharp scowl on her features and clear irritation swirling in her eyes, was possibly one of the most casually attractive women Rachel had ever seen.

Sun-kissed skin, long black hair pulled up into a messy bun, slightly worn and loose, dark wash jeans (with a hole in the left knee, the smaller girl noted, tie-dyed shirt of various reds and purples that hung just loose enough on the woman's shoulders to be considered baggy, and bare feet. The woman was standing with her hip jutting out to one side and arms crossed over her… prominent chest - and at that thought Rachel could feel her face flush slightly. Forcing her eyes up, she noted both the silver bangles on slim wrists and the black choker around a slim but strong looking neck (_to go perfectly with that jawline and - oh my goodness Rachel, stop it)._ Rachel found herself staring at the blood-red Ankh attached to the choker, completely losing track of what was going on in her quest to take in every single detail this taller woman had to offer. The subject of her speculation, however, wasn't so distracted.

"Hey!" And suddenly two snapping fingers came into Rachel's line of sight. "Eyes up here, chica." Rachel felt herself flush hotter and quickly made eye contact, which might have been just as bad had she not already been so embarrassed. She wasn't sure what she had expected, but for this 'Santana Lopez' to be so… gorgeous definitely hadn't been in the cards.

"E-excuse me, Ms. Lopez. I just- I have a problem, and I'm told- well that is to say, I've heard from a reliable source, that you might be able to help m-EEE!" The rest of Rachel's sentence turned into a high pitched squeal as she was suddenly thrown forward forcibly into the woman, completely losing her footing and hands flying up in a desperate attempt to catch herself. The woman squawked in surprise – a rather unattractive sound, said some vocally-attuned part of Rachel's brain - and caught the girl, stumbling back into the house as she balanced them both.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing! EH! Hands off the goodies!"

"I am so, so sorry! Just let me-"

"Ow!"

"Oh dear-"

When they finally managed to settle themselves and both were standing upright and separate from each other, the shorter girl's face was absolutely red and the other one looked livid. Before any more words could be exchanged, however, the door slammed shut and Rachel yelped, twisting around sharply. "I told you to leave me alone!" she yelled, seemingly at nothing. Santana watched this curiously, a thin brow rising sharply. She opened her mouth to comment sarcastically, but got distracted by a streak of black shooting past her and jumping onto the back of the couch nearby. The cat, black with a single white sock on its front right foot, had its ears drawn back and was hissing fiercely at the same space of air that Rachel had just yelled at.

"NO!" came a voice from the very spot, and Santana's eyes went from curious to serious in a second. She stepped forward, moving Rachel behind her gently, and drew out a long, thin wand from her back pocket with her left hand. The shutters on both sides of the door banged open and closed and the cat growled.

"Show yourself", spoke the Latina sternly, though much more calmly than Rachel had heard her sound since laying eyes on her.

The shutters rattled again. "NO!"

Rachel ducked completely behind the taller woman, eyes wide and head peeking out just over her shoulder. She clutched at Santana's shirt tightly, jumping a little as a potted plant was pushed off a nearby stand by nothing. Apparently shutters were one thing and her plants were another, because Rachel felt the woman in front of her tense, able to see the muscles in her neck and on her jawline working as a scowl set itself firmly in place.

"Show yourself so that we can have a _civil conversation _or I will fucking_exercise you right the fuck now_." Part of Rachel wondered if the vulgar language was necessary. The more prominent part of her, at the moment, wondered if Santana could really do that. _Isn't there some big long process involving crosses and Bibles and priests for that kind of thing? Santana doesn't really look like a priest, and I'm not sure an Ankh counts as a real cross…_

The disembodied voice just laughed and pushed over another plant breaking its ceramic pot and seriously pissing Santana (and her cat, apparently) off.

"Yeah, okay, fuck this." Taking a small step back with her right foot, Santana raised her oak wand and aimed it straight at where the cat was glaring. "Relinqueremalumspiritus, ad infernum!" There was a cry and another, "NO!", but this time it was more of a shriek. "Relinqueremalumspiritus, ad infernum!" repeated Santana forcefully. More shrieking along with a "STOPPIT". "Relinquere-"

"OKAY! I'm sorryI'msorryI'msorry!" Not seconds later a figure appeared. A small boy, clearly no older than ten or so, stood next to where the last plant was knocked over, just off to the right off the door. He had loose clothing on, was all a very, very pale blue, and looking at him was like looking through frosted glass. Rachel had seen all of this already, but what she hadn't noticed before was the sharp red-lit outline surrounding the boy, nor the same kind of outline surrounding his milky-white irises.

Santana glanced at the cat, still crouched down and growling low in its throat. Not lowering her wand even a centimeter, she spoke, her voice once again calm, though just as stern as it had been before. "Why are you following this girl?" It was a simple question; one that Rachel had asked before and received nothing but pulled hair and a book nearly to the face. Apparently though, the threat of a wand-wielding Latina was more persuasive.

"I need to find my sister," came the mumbled reply.

Santana frowned and looked back at Rachel, keeping the wand up and the spirit in her peripheral. She didn't look too impressed with the small girl hiding behind her back, but also wasn't the least bit surprised. "You know this kid?"

Rachel, for her part, could only shake her head vehemently. "I've never met him until two days ago. I swear."

Santana nodded and looked back the child. "This isn't her and she can't help you. You need to leave her alone now."

_Well I suppose I could try to help him, but he certainly hasn't said anything about needing help up until now… _thought Rachel to herself. She was smart enough to keep her mouth shut, though, and opted for continuing to watch the proceedings from behind the safety of the woman with the know-how._She smells like spices and the outside. It's very nice - Rachel! Again? Really?_

The spirit didn't seem to like what Santana was saying. "I need to find my sister!" he yelled, pale blue hands tightening into fists.

Santana raised her voice, but refrained from yelling in kind. "We can't help you. I'm sorry, but you need to leave right now." The red tint around the boy's eyes had gotten darker – more prominent.

"FIND MY SISTER!"

"_Leave. Now." _Several books flew off the bookshelf next to the plant stand the boy was near and slammed into the wall opposite the room.

_"I WANT MY SISTER! GIMME MY SISTER!"_

The cat yowled, back arching up as its fur rose. Santana didn't ask again. "I've you asked you thrice to go away, and yet you choose to scream and stay. By the Goddess and Blessed Three, I banish you now - away with thee!"

The spirit, a little overdramatically in Rachel's opinion, twisted and screamed and howled before being thrown out of the house completely, through the wall and to Lord-knows-where. And everything was instantly calm - including the cat, which was now sitting on the back of the couch and cleaning its paws.

Rachel stared in wide-eyed awe, mouth slightly agape and brain working to catch up with what just occurred. "That's never happened before," she murmured, half to Santana and half to herself. "They've never been that violent." She backed off a bit, putting space between herself and Santana as she worked to right her frazzled nerves. Santana visibly softened, just a touch, though kept her irate posture.

"You gonna be alright?" Her tone was even - hard even; but her eyes gave away a certain amount of concern, and Rachel held onto that as a form of reassurance. She opted simply to nod, not quite trusting herself to speak as yet. With a nod in turn, Santana moved swiftly past her, heading through a large arch that the little diva could only assume was the kitchen, judging by what she could see through the large opening in the wall between the two rooms, where a breakfast counter sat. "Good. You can leave now," spoke the taller woman briskly.

Ignoring that completely, Rachel began looking around the living room and anywhere else she could spot from said room. The area was spacious yet somehow managed to feel cozy and cluttered. The walls were covered in family photos (some so old they were black and white and faded), odd art work that was distinctly art nouveau in nature, if what little art history knowledge she had served her correctly. There was a large, brick fireplace, which looked like it had been used recently judging by the cast-iron fire gate and ashes, and on the mantle were various candles and some statues of figures she honestly didn't recognize. In the center were three large pillar candles: one white, one red, and one black. All three looked as though they had also been lit recently. The furniture was obviously old (like most of the house), but it was nice and well kept, and looked incredibly comfortable. Rachel tested the theory by slowly seating herself on the couch as she continued to study the various hanging and potted plants, bookshelves filled to the brim (she saw some titles in Latin and Spanish for sure, but some of the languages were completely unrecognizable), and the various little knicks and knacks that made the entire room feel… safe; homely, even.

She liked it, and said as much. "You have a lovely home, Ms. Lopez."

From the kitchen, said woman's head snapped to look through the window into the living room. "Why are you still here?"

Rachel smiled, standing up and making her way over to the stools by the counter. She took a seat, resting her hands in her lap. "I haven't properly thanked you for helping me."

Santana said nothing, merely raising a brow and resting a hand on a popped hip, waiting.

Taking that as her cue, Rachel inhaled, "With the utmost sincerity, I would like to extend my gratitude to you, Ms. Lopez - "

"Santana."

"- My apologies. Santana, then. I would like to extend my gratitude to you, Ms. Santana, for aiding me in that rather harrowing, and, if I may say, terrifying experience. I don't know what I would have done had I not been able to call upon your immediate and most experienced assistance. You have my eternal thanks and most sincere gratefulness."

Without missing a beat Santana turned back to the stove. "Great. You're welcome. Now go away."

Again Rachel ignored the woman's words completely. She was just too _curious _now. Here was this beautiful woman who could banish ghosts and had a real wand that was now behind her left ear and that made her look even more casual and stunning and – and - _I just want to know everything about her. It's just… fascinating. I've never met anyone like her before. _"So how much do I owe you?"

She watched as Santana's shoulders tensed and dark, dark brown eyes glanced back at her as the woman's head turned just enough to get the small young woman into her line of sight.

"Excuse me?"

"Payment," the student repeated. "For helping me."

Scoffing, Santana shook her head and rolled her eyes, returning to stirring whatever was in the large, cast-iron pot. "I don't charge for important shit. Don't be stupid."

Cocking her head to the side curiously and furrowing her brow, Rachel asked, "Isn't that kind of backwards?"

"Why are you still here?"

Rachel continued without missing a beat. "I mean I can understand maybe not charging for small, simple things. But for something important or difficult, wouldn't asking for monetary compensation be more sensible?"

With a long, possibly melodramatic, suffering sigh, the Latina turned around to once again face the girl completely, arms crossed over her chest (making Rachel's eyes flit down to it again for a split second before quickly looking back up into the woman's eyes). "Your life was in danger."

Rachel frowned in reply to this, and looked ready to argue it.

Santana, however, shot a finger up and shook it side to side. "Nu-uh. Don't speak. Just listen."

"Fine."

"What did I _just _say about speaking? Anyway. Your life was in danger. That was a poltergeist. They are nasty, bitter spirits that are nearly_impossible_ to really help, and if they decide to focus on you it can cause some serious issues. _Life-threatening_ issues. I'm not some fucking charlatan - " (Rachel thought it oddly hot that Santana used that kind of vocabulary despite otherwise talking between ghetto and too-much-swearing) " - who's gonna charge people an arm and a leg when they're already at risk. That shit's fucked up. Besides, the insurance companies do that shit enough. So whatever. If you came by for a cold remedy or whatever it'd be different."

Rachel was momentarily stunned by the answer; both by the nature of the response and the length that it was delivered in - neither of which had been at all expected. Then she grinned brightly, clapping her hands together while exclaiming, "You're so sweet!"

Groaning and muttering something in Spanish that Rachel couldn't quite catch, Santana turned around, shaking her head. "Ay Dios - please_leave_."

It was quiet then, for a considerable amount of time, and Santana figured the little brat (was the kid even old enough to be walking around alone?) had left, even if she hadn't heard the door open or close. She was just getting back into her groove when out of nowhere, "Your cat is wonderful, by the way."

"FUCKIN' A - !" she shrieked, spinning on her heel and wielding her wooden spoon like a wand all its own. There sat Rachel, _still _at her counter, except now with her damn cat - wait, why was her cat sitting on Rachel's lap and purring like the shrimp was stuffed with catnip?

"She's very friendly. It's a she right? I just assumed by the color of the collar. Purple's a relatively feminine color. And the little ankh is cute, too, by the way. What's her name?" Rachel wasn't even looking at Santana at this point, just petting and looking at the cat on her lap with the brightest smile in the world. The cat, for her part, looked like she was in heaven.

Santana lowered the spoon, watching the unfolding scene carefully. "Yeah… Her name's Raza, and she's usually a complete bitch to everyone but me. What's up with you?"

Rachel continued to scratch Raza behind the ears, humming to herself a little before continuing on with her train of thought and, once _again_conveniently ignoring certain parts of what Santana was saying. "That seems silly. She seems perfectly amiable to me. Of course not that I know much about cats, seeing as I've never had one, sadly, but even so I would like to compliment you on how well you seem to take care of her. Her fur is very soft and despite earlier she appears to be very happy and pleased."

Walking over to the counter and setting the spoon down, Santana leaned on her elbows and raised a brow. "Yeah… Sure… But you didn't answer my question."

"Hm? Oh, I'm sorry. What was it again?" Before Santana could get another word in, Raza was pushing herself up into the crook of Rachel's neck and rubbing the top of her head against the bottom of Rachel's jaw, the tip of her tail twitching contently. "Oh you're so cute! And so soft!"

Santana watched the interaction carefully, eyes picking it apart piece by piece before she seemingly came to a decision. Her shoulders loosened up just a bit, and her eyes softened once again. She shook her head. "Nevermind… So, hey, since you seem intent on ignoring the ten thousand times I've told you to get out of my house, do you want some tea or something?"

Santana was pretty sure the smile on Rachel's face couldn't have gotten any wider, but it did as she looked up at the ebony-haired woman. "That would be lovely! What kind do you have? I'm not that picky but I do have my preferences and - "

"I can make pretty much anything here," cut in Santana quickly, before turning away and beginning to dig through the various cupboards in the kitchen. "Name it."

Frowning slightly, somewhat put-off by the interruption and briskness of the woman's tone, Rachel nonetheless replied. "Oh, well, in that case I'd like a simple chi and cinnamon, please. And thank you." Shrugging nonchalantly, Santana took out the necessary supplies and toned the pot burner down, while turning on and up the burner under the tea kettle resting on the back of the stove.

"So…"

"Rachel. Rachel Berry."

"Ber-"

"You helped my father, a year or so back. It's how I knew of you. Well I mean, there are the rumors, and everything, but I try not to read too much into hearsay, so to speak."

By this point Santana wasn't sure if she wanted to be more annoyed with the girl or, well, oddly charmed. She decided to go with the safer option of annoyed. "Ahuh… Anyway. Talk. What's up with the ghost kid?" She immediately regretted asking the question, as Rachel's eyes lit up, her back straightened, and she took a deep breath.

"Well, when I was a little girl, perhaps eight or so, there was this old woman that lived in our house. Or, well, not so much 'lived', but she was there. I tried telling my fathers about her, but they just assumed I was making up an imaginary friend and told me to be careful who I told outlandish stories to. They humored me for awhile, but as I got older they began dropping hints that maybe I should stop telling them about my imaginary friends. Or stop having them.

"Either way, I learned quickly to not speak about what I saw. And of course I saw other things, but Marge, the woman, was the most consistent. I would always talk to her when home alone, and in the evenings. She taught me so much, and I'm very grateful for having been able to see and speak to her.

"That, of course, was when I realized I was very different from my daddies, and possibly many other people. I mean, no one ever said anything about Marge, and I learned later that it was because they could neither hear nor see her. When I got older I began going to the local library on my own and learned about mediums and ghosts and that sort of thing. Not that I had much time to devote to it, and not that I really wanted to devote myself to it. I'm a star, you see. Or, well, I want to be.

"I want to be on Broadway. Have since I was four years old and saw the incredible and absolutely stunning Barbara Streisand in Funny Girl. Have you ever seen it? You should. It's very good. I could loan it to you, perhaps? I'm sure you'd enjoy it.

"Anyway, as I was saying. I learned what I was, but that really just taught me to keep it to myself. I was already somewhat of an outcast at - oh, thank you, at school, and I didn't need to give the popular kids any more reason to pick on me. Eventually Marge was able to move on, and she thanked me for giving her the opportunity to talk to someone, and to watch someone grow up. She had a daughter who died at a young age, and she had never been able to get past it. I guess watching and speaking with me filled that void for her somehow. It was a very beautiful experience, watching her pass on.

"After that I never had many issues. Once in a while I'd come across a lost spirit, or a frozen one, or someone stuck, but I very rarely ever spoke with them. Then of course I got into Tisch, moved out of my house here in Queens and into the dorms, and began studying in the Dramatic Arts. A few days ago that little boy appeared to me while I was walking in Central Park, and followed me back to my dorm. Thankfully my roommate is gone for the week, but I was very unnerved by the fact that he had followed me, as no spirit had ever done so before. I tried speaking to him, but he just screamed at me and pulled my hair. Then he laughed. He started messing things up in my dorm, would keep me awake at night, follow me to my class. It was horrible! I couldn't concentrate. I could barely sleep, if at all, and even eating was difficult!

"…Which I suppose now I understand what you meant by being in danger… I truly was terrified… But, well, finally I called by fathers in a rare moment of when the boy was gone, and said that I had… a special kind of problem.

"I'm not sure if you're aware or not, but that's kind of code for this neighborhood when they need to deal with things that are… well, your forte, I suppose. So they gave me your address, and here I am. Of course they weren't particularly happy about me coming here, and I certainly didn't tell me my actual reason, but I suppose that isn't really the point."

Having returned to her pot, it honestly looked like she hadn't been listening to a word Rachel had said. She had, though. Sure, Santana had allowed herself to zone out at certain parts, but for all intents and purposes she had hung onto Rachel's every word. There was something _different_about this girl, and it wasn't just the fact that she was clearly a first generation medium. No, she had dealt with mediums before, new and old, and Raza had never been anything more than civil to them. Her familiar was practically _in love _with the Berry girl, and that was enough to, at the very least, make Santana curious about her. By the time she had stopped talking, Rachel had gone through three cups of tea, and Santana, spooning the mixture from the pot into several small, glass vials, wasn't totally sure how she had found time to drink any of it. "_Fascinating. _Really."

Again, Rachel's expression faltered just a bit, for reasons she couldn't quite explain. Something bothered her greatly about not having Santana's full attention, and she didn't know why - only that it did and that she didn't like it. She blamed her need to be at the center of everyone's attention, because that was the safest option. "What about you?" she asked, both in an actual need to learn more about the woman and as a means to distract herself from whatever her other feelings were. Not that they were really anything at all.

Santana turned to face her, the six vials held expertly between her fingers. "What about me?" she asked in return, brow raised.

"What's your story?"

And then Santana grinned, and it was absolutely predatory, and_something _in Rachel's stomach twisted and churned and her mouth felt completely dry despite the three cups of tea she had just consumed. "I'm a witch. Duh."


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Bad Influence

Author: Foxchaos

Fandom: Glee (Au!)

Pairing: Pezberry (and probs some others along the way)

Chapter 2: "Wherein Time Has Passed, Santana Loses her Cool, and Raza Silently Judges Her like the Rest of Us."

Rated M, for Santana's vulgarity and future perverseness (and possible sexytimes?)

_Word Count: +3,400_

_((A/N: Special thanks to ApathyEmpathy for beta'ing this chapter, and doing a spectacular job on it, too. You should all check out her awesome pezberry stories, including "Who You Are", if you haven't already. Again, I hope you love Raza in this as much as I (and I guess AE) do, because I would really like to continue exploring her character alongside Santana and Rachel's. Enjoy =) ))_

* * *

A week had passed since a certain dwarf-sized brunette had barreled her way into the Lopez House and thrown Santana's life into complete and utter chaos. Her cat would probably disagree; citing that Santana enjoyed the company and the white noise/conversation that the girl provided while she was over, but what did a stupid familiar know? _Nothing, that's what. Stupid girl with her stupid mouth and stupid smiling and- fuck where the hell is that book? This is fucking ridiculous._

She was up in her attic; a large, full-sized room with various trunks, bookshelves, regular shelves, and tables stacked with different jars and vials and the like. Near the center of the room was an old oaken desk, where a large black book rested in the center, closed tight and sealed with a lock. On the cover was a cursive L in gold, but other than that the book looked nothing special. Santana, for her part, was off in a corner digging through one of the large trunks. Sitting next to her, on an even bigger trunk, was a girl.

The girl was clearly small, and not just because she was sitting cross-legged. She was petite all over and could not have been more than five feet tall were she standing at full height. She wore a black bandana over black hair, which was cut so that her straight bangs reached just past her chin and it gradually got shorter as it moved back, barely going past the nape of her neck at the back. She wore thin-framed glasses, a simple black t-shirt, with loose black jeans, and black sneakers. The most notable things on her person were that she wore a purple collar around her neck with a small silver ankh, and that her right arm was covered in various black runes. They swirled up and over and across the entirety of her arm, disappearing under the sleeve of her shirt. The girl - who beyond her small stature looked somewhere in her teens between 16 and 17 - was grinning toothily and swaying back and forth in amusement.

"You like her." she spoke suddenly, and Santana paused long enough to glance at her.

"What are you talking about, Raza?" She was pretty sure her _stupid cat _had been jabbering away for a while now, but like many things in her life, Santana had learned when to tune her out and when to actually pay attention. This seemed like a 'pay attention' moment.

"That Rachel girl. I think you like her."

_Nope. Should have kept ignoring her._ Shaking her head, Santana went back to pulling out various books (and dust) from the trunk. She heard Raza sneeze, and then start talking more.

"You gave her tea," replied the familiar, as if it answered everything perfectly and upheld her theory just as perfectly.

Scoffing, Santana replied, "She wouldn't leave the house. Neither the first, the second, nor the third time she was over." She couldn't see it, but she knew – just _knew _– that the cat was still grinning, and probably had that damn look in her eye when she thought she was right. It was better to just let her think whatever at this point. The thing was useless to argue with.

Raza shrugged. "You could have forced her. It wouldn't have been difficult. A simple scare spell or even just a small threat. Easy as a cat-nap."

Santana stopped again, making eye contact with her familiar and raising a brow. "She had recently been all but _traumatized _by a poltergeist stalking her for two days. I'm not that much a bitch." Huffing, she kept digging in the trunk. _Seriously. Where the fuck is that book? I KNOW I put it in here. Even Raza agreed._

There was a lull in the conversation as the human-looking feline mulled this over for a bit, and then, "I still think you like her," she concluded. "At least a little bit. You could have told her to stop coming around. Like,_actually _told her to stop. And every time she's left you cast that protection charm on her. So." Watching with sharp green eyes, Raza followed Santana's movement as her mistress stood up, dusting off a small green book and started heading for the door to the stairs. Hopping off the trunk, she followed.

"You told me to cast the charm, Raza," was Santana's only answer as she opened the door and let the cat through first.

"I _asked_ you to do it the first time." She jumped on the banister of the long stairwell and began walking down it with ease. "You didn't need to keep doing it. And besides, you never listen to me unless it's something you already want to do and need an excuse for it."

She didn't get any answer from the taller, tanned woman as the door was locked and they headed down the hallway and to the living room, towards the kitchen. As Santana was digging out a small cast-iron pot, Raza jumped up to sit on the counter, feet dangling over the edge and swinging back and forth as she continued to grin. "I bet she'll come back again today, you know. She's totally into you. I can like, smell it on her, you know? Totes has the hots for you." The grin turned to a toothy smirk, and her canines became more prominent. "You could totally tap that."

Santana was digging in the nearby pantry now, pulling out various jars of herbs as the water that she had filled the pot with slowly started to simmer. She just scoffed, knowing anything she says at this point will just make it worse for herself. She'd just let Raza get this out of her system and then not give her any tuna and chicken for the next week as punishment.

"Come onnnn," whined Raza through her smirk. "I _know _you want to. You're like, desperate to get laid; I can smell that too. Not that I need to, I mean, you're really, really loud at night and-"

She was cut-off as Santana swooped in, a hand coming down to grab her by the back of her shirt. "Alright, out of the kitchen with you." She lifted Raza up easily, still entirely amused and grateful at the fact that Raza's actual mass didn't change when she was in this form, and began walking to the living room.

"What? But that's not fair!" complained the cat, though she made no physical effort to escape.

Santana just smiled, mocking her good-naturedly. "You can't be in the kitchen for this brew, so if you're gonna keep talking about your creepy obsession with my sex life, do it from the living room." She tossed Raza onto the couch without a second thought and began walking back.

Raza pouted, scrambling to right herself on the couch and stared at Santana's retreating form. "Wait, why not? I smelled catnip!"

"Exactly." came the amused answer.

"But it's good for me!" Just as she was about to get off the couch the woman looked over to the window and narrowed her eyes sternly.

"Stay in the living room, you little pest."

Raza froze, but continued to whine. "B-but Santanaaa! Catniiiiip!"

"You're an _addict!"_

_ "_And you're a horrible mistress!"

"Oh my gods, _drama queen!"_

Before another word could be said, there was a knock at the door, and then another right away. Raza's head snapped to look back at it, her features instantly going from pouty and stubborn to a wide Cheshire grin. "Rachel's here!" She was instantly transforming mid-jump off the couch, and was caught by the scruff of her neck as Santana all but flew out of the kitchen just in time to stop her. Lifting up the now-cat-again to eye-level she glared.

"Oh no you don't. Stay right the fuck here." The two got into a stare-off, with Raza's ears pinned back and a low, whine-like growl coming up from her throat, only to be returned by a sharp scowl on Santana's part. Another knock on the door interrupted them, and Santana dropped the cat back on the couch with a final and firm "_Stay_."

Raza continued to glower from her place on the couch, jumping up to sit on its back and sulk as Santana made her way to the door. Opening the door, Santana didn't know if she wanted to smile or sigh, so she settled with giving the shorter girl in front of the once-over, taking in the light blue sundress with violet and lilac print, and the way the girl beamed up at her. She noted the container that was being held in small hands and raised an eyebrow.

Rachel just smiled. "Good afternoon, Santana! I brought you cookies."

Santana blinked, eyebrows shooting up on her forehead. When she didn't receive an immediate answer or invitation into the house, Rachel kept going, trying not to fidget under the woman's scrutiny.

"They're lemon sugar cookies. I don't know if you like them or not, as that never really came up in our conversation before my roommate called and I had to leave, which I apologize again for leaving so abruptly, but I'm told that my recipe is quite delicious and I had some extras from when I was baking yesterday so I thought… um… Well my Dad can't have sweets and-" She was cut off by a hand- Santana's usual way of telling her to stop talking these days, and waved in as the taller brunette made her way back into the kitchen without another word.

Undeterred, Rachel let herself in, closing the door behind her, and followed, looking around. "So did you have company over? I thought I heard another voice here. Was there an argument? Is everything alright?" She saw Santana shrug as she took her seat at the counter to watch the woman work.

"My cat's an idiot. Don't worry about it", replied Santana easily, not sparing the young woman a glance as she measured out a cup of some kind of dull brown powder.

Rachel's features morphed into a look of confusion, and she was about to ask Santana what that was supposed to mean and how it possibly worked as an explanation, when she was being asked if she wanted tea and the conversation shifted.

A few minutes later Santana had her hair pulled back into a messy bun and was sweating over the stove while Rachel ate a cookie and sipped at her tea. Raza jumped up onto the counter, shoving her head into Rachel's free hand, and began to purr loudly. The brunette smiled, immediately beginning to pet the black cat. "Why hello there, kitty. I missed you, too."

Without looking back, Santana spoke up, "Off the counter and back in the living room, Raz. I won't say it again."

Rachel frowned. "Why does she have to be in the living room?" Raza ree'owed, as if to support Rachel's inquiry.

The witch turned her head, glaring sharply at the cat, who immediately shrunk down and backed up, turning around quickly to jump off the counter and scurry into the living room again and jumping up onto an old, worn out leather armchair to curl up and nap in rebellion.

Santana returned to her work, but answered the other girl's question once she was sure her familiar had listened to her. "I have to use catnip for this medicine. She's not allowed in the kitchen when I use catnip, and she knows that."

Nodding, Rachel replied, "That makes sense. I can only assume it's not good for her in large doses, or with too much exposure, as it is essentially a drug to her. …Much like marijuana, I imagine…" Santana snorted.

"Yeah. Try and tell her that."

The questioning look returned to Rachel face as she said, "I'm not sure that would be very effective…", and Santana could only smirk to herself as she thought, for different reasons than Rachel,

_You have no idea…_

* * *

Rachel was in the living room, having abandoned her post at the counter about an hour ago in order to keep Raza company. They were sitting on the couch, with the drama major telling some story or another about her best friend and roommate involving too much wine and a _My Little Pony_ DVD. She didn't know that the cat on her lap could understand every word perfectly, and was purring loudly in lieu of not being able to actually laugh.

Santana, meanwhile, was just finishing up in the kitchen and talking in brisk, even Spanish on her cellphone. The other brunette in the living room had absolutely no idea what was being said, but it sounded like business, so she kept to herself and continued on with her story.

"So then Kurt and Mercedes decide that it would be an excellent idea to go to the sing-along page on the DVD and, well, you know, sing along. I have to admit, it was quite hilarious, and though I'm positive the alcohol was doing_nothing _for our vocal chords and that we were most likely off-key at some points, I like to think we sounded rather good after the second or third attempt." Just then Santana walked into the living room, carrying a black and blue backpack and shoving her cellphone into the side pocket of her grey sweats.

"So, thanks for the cookies and keeping the brat out of the kitchen, but I've gotta get going, which means you need to leave now." Rachel glanced over at Santana, taking in her loose sweat pants and form-fitting, red top. She had taken to glancing at the woman's obvious cleavage whenever the opportunity presented itself, despite her best attempts at self-control, and quickly looked up at Santana's face before she could get caught. Though, judging by the ghost of a smirk that played on the witch's lips, the smaller girl wasn't so sure she had managed it.

She quickly spoke up, as a means to draw the attention away from her leering. "Where are you going? Is it a house call? Is that what the medicine is for?"

The look she got in response wasn't expected at all. Santana actually directed a heated glare at her, eyes narrowed and scowl deep as she crossed her arms over her chest tightly. "For gods sakes, what is _with you_ and not comprehending the words _Go. Away? Seriously._ I have to go out, so you need to get out. It's simple. Are you deaf or just that fucking _stupid?_" The room was dead silent after the outburst, and Santana looked just as surprised by what she had just said as Rachel did. Raza's eyes were widened and her ears perked, as if to ask _What the hell was that all about?_

And then Rachel was standing up quickly, almost toppling the black cat to the floor with a surprised "reow!" Turning to face Santana, the singer and actress clasped her hands in front of her and met the other woman's gaze head on.

"You're right. I apologize. It's rude of me to just come over unannounced like this, and you clearly have other pressing matters to attend to other than entertaining a young college student. Thank you for your time, anyway, and again for the tea. I hope you have a lovely day and that whatever the matter is goes well for you." She was headed for the door before the witch could get another word in, though she tried.

"Hey, just- just wait a sec-"

Spinning around to face her, the smile on her face of strained (but well-practiced) politeness, Rachel cut her off. "No, it's fine, Ms. Santana. I should be going anyway. And really, it's silly. I don't even really know you and already I'm invading your house like this. I'm not really sure what came over me, to be honest. Goodbye, then, ma'am, Raza." And she was gone, out the door and down the street before the taller brunette could say or do anything else.

Looking over to the couch, Santana let a frustrated sigh at the sight of her cat sitting on the back of it, and staring at her with so, so much judgment. "_What? _I have shit to do, Raza. Stop looking at me like that."

Raza's gaze didn't waver. She just flicked her ear.

"Stop that, you pesky gata. You're the one hung up on her, _not me._"

The familiar's ear flicked again, and Santana let out a loud, exasperated and incredibly frustrated groan/sigh.

"Fine! Fine. You know what? Whatever. It doesn't matter if I _maybe _found her weird stalking like, vaguely refreshing or whatever, and if the rambling was almost kind of cute as long as I tuned her out every three sentences or so, alright? She was right. It was weird for her to keep coming over, she doesn't know _anything _about us, and I have other things to do then sit around and entertain a little kid. She's gone. She probably won't come back._Get over it._" She turned away, picking up the backpack she had dropped at some point during her rant, and headed for the door. She stopped as she was reaching for the handle and stretched out her left hand towards the cat, who was still staring at her mistress. "You coming or what? We have to go to Senora Diaz's."

Raza seemed to sigh, but hopped down off the couch and took a running leap up Santana's arm and onto her shoulder, rubbing her head just under the woman's jaw. Smiling slightly and reaching a hand up to scratch the cat under her chin, Santana walked out the door. "Good girl. And…I know you liked Rachel, but it's for the best. We don't have time to babysit, and honestly, she's a hell of a lot safer staying away from us… You know what happens when people get too close…" She headed to the garage, and despite her own words, couldn't quite shake the feeling that she somehow had screwed up, and that she might actually miss the smaller girl.

She chalked it up to just being desperate for company - and maybe Raza was right. Maybe she really did need to get laid. _Ugh… I need to stop listening to my damn cat…_

* * *

She was on the bus, heading back to the city, and to her dorm, and hopefully a sympathetic Kurt to vent to, when a tall, pale blue man walked into the bus. Like, literally, he walked through the closed door and into the bus. Rachel watched him carefully from her seat in the back as he looked around, and then stared directly at her. His eyes were milky white, which wasn't a surprise, and she made sure to check for the tell-tale ring of red that (she now) knew indicated a poltergeist. He wore a trench coat over broad shoulders, and under that what looked to be an old button-up shirt and possibly suspenders, but she couldn't really tell. She could tell that he had on trousers, as opposed to jeans, though.

The two made eye contact, and the ghost spoke. _"You can see me?"_ he asked cautiously, glancing around at the mostly empty bus. Rachel nodded slowly. Then the ghost stepped forward, just as cautiously, and seemed to take a moment to think something over before asking "_Could you… I mean… Could you help me, do you think?"_

Rachel bit her lower lip, and then subtly gestured to the man to move closer. He did, walking/floating so that he stood a few feet from her, leaning down a bit so that he didn't tower over her completely. "I'm… not sure…" whispered Rachel in response. "But, if you'd like, we could talk in Central Park?"

The pale man nodded, taking a seat in the empty space next to Rachel, but keeping a good few inches between them. A short silence passed between them before Rachel spoke again. "I'm Rachel," she told him, voice low so as to not attract any attention. The ghost looked down at her, offering a small smile.

"Um… Finn."

Rachel returned the smile, then sat back in her seat and let out a slow breath. _I have no idea what I've just possibly gotten myself into, especially now that going to Santana is clearly no longer an option… But, well… He seems nice enough. I'll- I'll just have to be careful. I've managed to handle dealing with ghosts all my life with no help from anyone before, and I can certainly do it again._


	3. Chapter 3

Title: Bad Influence

Author: Foxchaos

Fandom: Glee (Au!)

Pairing: Pezberry (and probs some others along the way)

Chapter 3: "During Which a Mystery is Revealed, a Shadow Looms, and Santana Can't Seem to Ever Agree with Her Cat."

Rated M, for Santana's vulgarity and future perverseness (and possible sexytimes?)

Word Count: +3,300

_((A/N: My sincere thanks to Apathyempathy for beta'ing once again for me =) I enjoy both her eyes ability to catch my errors and the commentary she offers afterwords. That said, more dramaz, which will only increase as time goes. For now, enjoy. Commentary and critiques and questions are always welcome.))_

* * *

They were walking through the park in the evening, Rachel on the phone talking to her roommate and Finn walking a foot or so to her left, just looking around and enjoying the chance to see more of his old/new city.

"I'm perfectly fine, Kurt, I assure you. … No, no, it's okay. I just decided to go for a walk- Kurt, I'm a grown woman- Oh for heaven's sake. Kurt, I sincerely appreciate your concern, but I promise you that I am in no danger and that I have both my rape whistle and mace on-hand. I will be back in no more than two hours, and if I am not you may panic. … … Yes, alright. … Yes, that sounds lovely. Thank you, Kurt. I'll see you tonight, then. Goodbye. Love you, too, my 'Guylinda'." With that she hung up, placed her phone in her purse, and beamed over and up at Finn. "So. Finn, yes?"

Finn nodded, returning her smile. "Yeah. Well, Detective Hudson, but that doesn't really matter much anymore." Immediately Rachel's eyes brightened even _more _and she clapped her hands together excitedly.

"You were a detective? That's so incredible!"

The tall ghost just laughed, running his hand through his hair and shrugging. "Uh… Yeah, I guess, sometimes. Not sure 'incredible' is really the word I'd use for it, near the end especially, but it had its moments. I mean, I loved what I did, obviously. Cause you know, that's why I kept doin' it."

Rachel hummed in understanding, not completely sure what Finn was referencing back to but assuming it had something to do with the fact that he was a ghost. "So… You wanted to know if I could help you. What's the problem? I mean, beyond the fact that you are deceased, that is."

The dead detective laughed again, this time more light-heartedly. "That's sorta the weird part… I've been dead for… uh… What's the year right now?"

"2013."

"Okay, so I'm pretty sure I died somewhere around the 1950's… And I remember dying. Well, sorta. I remember it just being all… black. And warm. No pearly gates, no white light, nothin' special; just a lot of dark and really comfortable. It just felt like I was sleeping a lot. Sometimes I'd 'wake up', but nothing had changed, so I'd sleep again. Is this makin' sense?"

Rachel bit her lip, looking down for a moment then back to Finn. "I've… honestly never heard of that. But on the other hand, you're one of three ghosts that I've ever actually held a conversation with… or really had direct, positive interaction with period, so…"

The man went on. "Well then, about a year or so ago, I think, there was a light. Not… it wasn't all that… special. It was just light. Like the light you see at the end of a train tunnel. Natural. And suddenly I just got this… this_feeling _that I _had _to go towards that light. There was no voice or anything. No angelic or shadowy figures. Just a feeling. A pull. So I went towards it, and ended up at that bus stop. I'm just standin' there, and right as the bus comes that feeling comes back, and I gotta get on the bus. So I did." Finn looked down at the sidewalk, shoving his hands into the pockets of his trench coat. "I've been standing at that bus stop, taking that exact same bus at the exact same time, ever since I 'woke up'. Every time I tried to take a different bus or something it would pull me back. This is the first time I've been able to actually leave. I don't feel like I gotta go back at all. Ever."

Rachel furrowed her brow, her tongue sticking out just beyond her lips as she went into concentrated thought. _I have an… idea…But no. That's preposterous. I mean, that kind of thing doesn't happen in real life. …On the other hand, walking around Central Park with a ghost after getting kicked out of a witch's house isn't supposed to happen in real life either…_

"I think I was supposed ta meet you."

Finn's words snapped her out of her thoughts so quickly she feared she may have experienced mental whiplash as she stared up at the spirit, dumbfounded. How did he know she was thinking that? Did he know she was thinking that? But Finn was still talking.

"I know. I know it sounds crazy."

And Rachel couldn't help but agree.

"But I think that's it. Only now that I met you, I don't know what to do. I just know- or feel like- you can help me somehow. Or I can help you. Or both."

Rachel looked back to the pathway they were walking, taking a moment to situate her thoughts before responding. "Well… I don't know what to say… You seem like a very nice young man, however, and while I have absolutely no idea what I can do to help, I'll certainly try." They reached a fork in the path, and Rachel steered them right, heading back to the exit and bus stop she needed to go to in order to get back to campus. "Clearly something has kept you from moving on, and has done so for a long time. For whatever reason your spirit- or well, you- have waited until you could somehow meet me in order to accomplish this goal." Clapping her hands together, the petite brunette looked back up to the tall, pale man. "So, first things first; you mentioned remembering about the time you passed, yes?"

Finn nodded, a little awed at the amount of words able to come from Rachel's mouth with so few breaths in-between.

"Do you recall anything else? Family? Old friends? The nature in which you met your seemingly untimely end?"

Looking up at the quickly darkening sky, Finn's eyebrows furrowed together heavily and his expression twisted in thought. He ran a hand through his hair again and sighed. "Not really… I remember I had a wife, though. We had just gotten married pretty recently. Like, maybe three or four years before. She was… She was a real sweet thing…" His expression softened, a small, sad smile flitting across his lips before it was replaced with another thoughtful look. "And I remember some stuff from the force; my precinct number, who my partner was, that kind of stuff."

Rachel looked at the man a little apprehensively. "Do you… do you remember your wife's name?"

That soft, sad smile returned as he answered. "Yeah… Her name was, well it was Suzy Hudson, 'cause I married her and all. But before that it was Anderson."

As they drew closer to the exit of the park, Rachel slowed down her a pace a bit, to give them more time. "So… I'm not completely sure how to make this happen, but I think we should try and track down your wife, and possibly your old partner? I mean, they should, hopefully, be alive. We can also check the library, and see if we can find anything about an officer being killed around the time you died. We need to figure out how you died, I think, before we can go any further."

They agreed to start right after Rachel's morning classes, and took their place at the bus stop just as it came into view down the street.

* * *

Back at the dorm Rachel was sitting on her bed, alongside Mercedes and across from Kurt, who was sitting on his own bed. Finn had wandered off to explore the campus around the dorm, and her best friends didn't hesitate to throw her into the conversation they had been having before she got back. Kurt threw a knowing smirk towards Rachel.

"So, my fellow diva, how was _Santana's _house? Did she make you tea again? Did she enjoy your cookies?"

Rachel blushed, looking down and fiddling with her hands. Mercedes looked in-between the two, eyes narrowed in confusion.

"Hold up. I've been workin' my ass off for the past week. What the hellz been goin' on? Who's Santana and why did Rachel bake her cookies? We _are_talkin' actual cookies, right?"

Kurt just leaned back on his hands and crossed his legs, continuing to smirk smugly. "_Santana Lopez_. You know, the girl who moved into Granny Lopez' after she died? Rachel's been…'having tea' with her for almost the last week."

Mercedes smiled brightly, though there was a smirk pushing at the corner of her lips. She clapped Rachel on the back. "Girl, you are settin' yer sights high and takin' names! Who knew you had it in you?" At this Rachel's face only grew more heated. She huffed, shoulders shrugging in a defeated manner.

"Yes, well… Unfortunately your congratulations come far too soon, and are ill-informed anyway. Santana and I truly were only having tea…Or, actually… I was invading her privacy and she was more plying me with tea, possibly in order to make me shut up…"

Kurt and Mercedes shared a look, both frowning.

"Hun, stop it. Where's the confident young ingénue I know and share a deep and profound love-hate-love relationship with?" spoke Kurt reassuringly.

Rachel simply shrugged again, looking up and offering them a sad smile. "She seems to have forgotten herself sometime between being yelled at and being, more or less, told to 'fuck off' earlier this afternoon."

The diva next to her scowled, "That bitch said what to you? Oh you know she better not be tryin' to start something. Want me to give her a smack down for you?"

Rachel couldn't help but chuckle, resting her head on Mercedes' shoulder. "No, no, it's alright, Cedes. I really should be focusing on my summer coursework anyway. But all the same, the sentiment is appreciated." _And as much as I love you and have faith in your abilities to deliver said 'smack down' to most anyone else, I'm afraid even without her… magic, Santana would give you a very good run for your money and I don't want anyone to get hurt._

The other girl wrapped her arm around Rachel's shoulder and Kurt moved over to join them on the other bunk. They all leaned back against the wall, sighing simultaneously.

"So, did you hear? Angela is having a major _bitch fit _over the performance team list that went up yesterday," offered Kurt. Rachel rolled her eyes.

"Of course she is… She's utterly convinced that she's superior to everyone else at this school, after all. I mean, I know I can be a diva,"

"Seconded."

"Word."

"but even so, at least I'm willing to aid and respect my fellow performers and see their talents wherever they may lie. Take Jordan, for example. While lacking a particularly wide range vocally, he is extremely passionate and has an incredible baritone nonetheless."

The other two nodded, and just like that they were gossiping and talking as though nothing had gone wrong at all earlier that same day. As the topics turned to Kurt and Mercedes' respective boyfriends coming up to visit for a week, Rachel let her thoughts run away on their own.

_I hope Finn manages to find the dorm okay. This area of campus isn't that large, but from what I understand a lot has changed since he was alive. I'm not even sure these particular buildings existed… And I really hope I can help him somehow. He seems like such a sweet gentleman. A little on the dopey side, perhaps, but charming, and he must have some more focused intelligence in order to be promoted to detective. Of course he did die… But for all I know he was shot down saving someone else's life!_

_Sigh… I really wish I could talk to Santana about this… She'd know what to do… But no. I messed that up quite perfectly and there's no going back now. I'll just have to manage on my own. And with Finn. At least until he can finally move on._

_It's just… God she was gorgeous. And incredible. And just- I should stop this. It isn't happening. I made sure of that by being my usual obsessive, overly-enthusiastic self. There will be other women- and men. And someday I'll look back on this and Santana Lopez will be just another pretty face of the past._

_Oh… but she has such a pretty face…_

* * *

It was late, Santana was tired, and she wanted nothing more than to fall into her bed and be unconscious for the next nine and a half hours. The moment she opened the door to the house Raza was off her shoulder and racing into the kitchen, jumping up onto the counter next to the stainless steel sink and mewing something fierce.

"Yeah, yeah, I hear ya. Don't have a hairball," replied Santana as she dropped her backpack onto the couch and made her way into the kitchen.

"Ree-ow!" Raza answered, pacing back and forth on the counter and glancing between the cupboard above her and her mistress.

"Nu-uh. You _don't _get any of that tonight. You were a pest all day. Don't think I forgot." Instead of going for the cupboard her cat was practically drooling at, she went to the pantry and pulled out a bag of regular, hard cat food. The moment the familiar spotted the bag her ears flattened and she hissed at it. Santana rolled her eyes. "You are so spoiled…" She took Raza's clean bowl from the sink and set it down, pouring some food into the glass bowl and looking at the black cat expectantly. Raza stared back, but had exchanged an insulted look for a pathetic one; her ears drooped, eyes wide, and shoulders slumped as she looked up at the witch.

A beat passed, and Santana raised her eyebrow. "That's not gonna work, you know. This is what you get for being a brat."

The cat broke eye contact for a moment, and Santana narrowed her eyes, knowing the familiar was rethinking her strategy. She jumped down from the counter suddenly, and transformed into a younger version of her human form - around the age of _two_. Cue full-blown pout.

Santana balked, throat clenching the same time her heart did. _Gods damn-_"Raza, I swear if you don't fucking shift back right now you will _never _see catnip _ever again_."

In reply, the child-familiar stepped forward and wrapped her tiny arms around Santana's leg, hugging her tight and looking up at the much taller woman, lips quivering and eyes shining with tears.

The witch glared down murderously. "I _hate _when you do this…" she hissed, but finally let out a long, heavy sigh. "Fuck my life… Fine. You win. You can have your damn chicken tonight." _Every fucking time!_

The moment she turned her back on the cat in order to get the chicken from the cupboard Raza had shifted to her usual human age and was dancing giddily in place, grinning her Cheshire grin and pumping her fists up and down in silent victory. The second Santana turned back around, though, she was once again a black cat and sitting calmly on the floor at her mistress's feet. The woman wasn't fooled at all, but didn't bother saying anything. She opened the can, set it down on the floor, and proceeded to clean up the kitchen as Raza ate.

Later, as Santana was headed upstairs, Raza shifted again. "You haven't cast the protection charm yet." she said from behind the witch, who was already halfway up the steps. The witch paused, looking back and shrugging.

"That's 'cause I'm not going to."

Raza frowned. "Why not…?" Her frown deepened then, brows furrowing. "Please don't tell me it's because of this afternoon…"

Santana just shrugged again, already turning back to continue to her bedroom.

"Santanaaaa…" whined the cat. "I really think you should. Like, I'm really, really serious here."

Santana scoffed, stopping at the landing and huffing, turning around to look down at Raza and crossing her arms tightly over her chest. "The midget is perfectly capable of taking care of herself without any magical influence, Raz. You got your chicken; now stop with the damn pouting. I'm too tired for this shit."

"You can't be too tired for one charm. It's not even a full spell, and all you did today was make a bit of medicine and cast a few cleansing spells. I _know_you have like, way more energy than that."

Brown eyes narrowing and shoulders tensing, Santana ground her teeth as her nails dug into her arms. _I am really starting to lose my patience with her. _"Can you just like, back the fuck off? I'm serious, Raza. The little dwarf has gone her whole hobbity life without my help. I think she can fucking manage to do it some more!"

The hairs on the back of Raza's neck stood up, and her stance resembled that of a bristling cat. "You know, you're being really defensive about this whole thing for not caring!"

"DAMN IT, RAZA!" Santana finally exploded "I told you to _shut up _about her! It! What-the-fuck-_ever! _I am _ordering _you to drop it!" Turning on her heel, she stomped down the hall, but not before yelling back, "and you're sleeping on the couch tonight!" as the door to her room slammed shut.

Raza deflated quickly, her shoulders dropping to match her kicked expression. As annoyed as she was with her mistress, she didn't want to sleep alone tonight… She'd been too spoiled by being able to cuddle up next to Santana and steal her extra warmth.

Shifting back to her true form, Raza slinked over to the couch, looked at for it a moment, then looked over to the leather armchair; Santana's chair. Without hesitation she trotted over to it and jumped, curling up into it and inhaling Santana's scent deeply, before letting out a thick breath and closing her eyes.

The fur on her spine wouldn't relax, and she had a horrible feeling in the pit of her stomach that she couldn't explain even if she had proper vocal chords. But it was the same feeling she got every time Rachel had left the house since showing up, and now it was making her stomach twist.

She wasn't going to drop the subject, either. She couldn't. Normally an order from her mistress was absolute, but something about this order didn't feel as final, and she was willing to test her boundaries over the sick feeling in her gut.

Still, she knew Santana. She knew she needed to let her cool off, and approach this at a different angle. For now, though, she needed to sleep, and hope that her witch would take her back come morning.

* * *

Finn glided through the window of Rachel's dorm to find her and her roommate, plus their friend, fast asleep. He had spent a lot of time thinking over what he and the young girl had talked about, trying to dig up as many memories as he could in hopes that the two could use them once they started their hunt.

He took a moment to look down at the small singer, watching her sleep; part of him wondered what she was dreaming. What her hopes for the future were, why she chose this school… He shook his head, sighing to himself and shaking off the feeling of nostalgia and regret. He was dead now, so there was no point in dwelling on all the maybes and could-have-beens.

Moving to the girl's desk he sat down in the chair that had already been moved away from it. He crossed his arms, set his chin on his chest, and closed his eyes.

No one in the room noticed a black, shadowy form seep under the window sill of the room and slink its way across the cheap carpet to Rachel's bunk. It wrapped itself around the bed post, slithered up, and glided across the diva's form until it reached her chest. It stopped directly over her heart, and then literally _sunk _into her. Rachel gasped in her sleep, coughed twice, and rolled over to her side before slipping back into unconsciousness.

* * *

_((A/N: Next update will be sometime around... Let's say Thursday or Friday. I actually have up to chapter 6 plus an interlude written, but I like to space things out. Especially since I cliff-hanger the hell out of my stories. Have fun!))_


	4. Chapter 4

Title: Bad Influence

Author: Foxchaos

Fandom: Glee (Au!)

Pairing: Pezberry (and probs some others along the way)

Chapter 4: "At Which Point Rachel is Knocked Out, Kurt's a BAMF, Santana Continues to Have Cat Issues, and Raza Probably Needs a Leash"

Rated M, for Santana's vulgarity and future perverseness (and possible sexytimes?)

_Word Count: +4000_

_((A/N- Vielen Dank to Apathyempathy for continuing to a be life-saving beta and, whether she knows it or not, a source of continued good energy and motivation. A few things so that people aren't all 'wait what?'. When Finn's speech is italisized but also in quotes it means that only a select few can actually hear him. You will never see Finn having actual thoughts. He's always thinking outloud, so to speak. When his speech is normal everyone within hearing range can hear and understand what he is saying. Also, yes, Raza is vaguely fluent in Russian for reasons that may or may not be covered in in the story. She understands most of what Santana says in Spanish simply by exposure, but cannot, in any real way, speak it. That said, onwards to chapter 5! Which will come next Thursday. Translations for other languages at the bottom. I will not be translating any Latin shown, however. Runes the magic ;D *badpun*))_

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Kurt woke up to his alarm blaring out "I Am Not the Boy Next Door" and groaned, fumbling around for his phone before finally managing to hit the Dismiss key and forcing his body to sit up. It was then he realized a few things; he didn't remember Rachel's alarm going off, he did remember Mercedes leaving for work, and he didn't remember Rachel wishing him a good day before closing the door behind her. Then he realized that there was a horrible sounding coughing fit coming from the other side of the room. His head whipped over to see Rachel doubled-over, coughing and hacking up a storm with sweat dripping down her face. The smell of sickness hit his nose, and he was stumbling out of bed and over to his roommate without a second thought.

Moving onto the bed he quickly wrapped his arms around her, rubbing her back with one hand and rocking back and forth, trying to help her ease her breathing, which had become border-line hysteric. "Okay just breathe, Rachel. Deep breaths, hun. Deep breaths. In…and out…In…and out…" He breathed in deeply, keeping Rachel close to his chest, and eventually the coughing subsided and she fell against him in exhaustion as she tried catching her breath. Kurt continued to hold her for a few moments longer, rocking her gently until her labored breathing had become at least somewhat steady before easing the tiny brunette slowly back on her bed, before realizing that her sheets were soaked in sweat.

"Oh dear…That won't do at all…"

Changing tactics, Kurt lifted the girl in his arms and set her on his own bed. She instantly curled up into a ball, whimpering, and he went to her closet to take out a new set of sheets. It didn't take him long to strip the bed and resituate it and soon enough Rachel was back on her bed with new sheets and new blankets, wrapped up tight with a cool clothe on her forehead and a thermometer under her tongue. Kurt sent a hurried text to Mercedes, then checked the thermometer.

He shook his head. "102… How does that…" It didn't make any sense, because the girl had been perfectly fine health-wise just last night; no less than nine hours ago.

Two hours later he had to hide her phone and call their professors to inform them that neither of the two would be able to make it to classes for the day. One of Rachel's directors was livid but Kurt just hung up on him. It was just Monty. The man blew up when his water bottle was two inches too far from his hands at any given moment, so Kurt wasn't actually worried at all.

Rachel, for her part, wasn't used to be sick.

Ever.

She had a cold twice in her life and tonsillitis in high school, and that had been the extent of it. And now it felt like she was actually _dying._ Half the time she wasn't even really aware of what was going on beyond the pounding in her head and the incredibly icy ache in her chest. She couldn't seem to stay warm, no matter how many blankets she had and despite the fact that she was sweating horribly. Every so often she'd become conscious enough to mumble a few words, but they came out raspy and choked and it felt like her throat was constricting.

Her roommate had been forcing water into her system despite the fact that she'd thrown up twice in the last hour, and then dry heaved for another ten minutes. She was completely exhausted, and it was only noon.

Finn had been watching all of this anxiously, going from pacing around the room to pacing outside the window, to pacing around the room again. He didn't know what was happening, but was pretty much convinced that this was somehow his fault, and legitimately felt like the most horrible person- ghost – something – ever to exist. "_Oh God I killed her. Rachel's gonna die and it's all my fault. I killed this little girl. Oh my God. Oh God."_

When Kurt left to heat up some soup for the little diva, stating in no uncertain terms that he _was _going to get some kind of nutrients into her system if it was the last thing he did, Finn knelt down by Rachel's bedside, as close to tears as a ghost could manage. "I'm so, so sorry, Rachel. This is all my fault. Oh God please be okay. I know I've only known you for less than 24 hours, but you're really sweet and really young and you _can't _end up like me so soon. You just _can't_."

The small woman shifted in her sleep, whimpering. Her eyes fluttered open for a moment, and her lips started moving.

"Rachel don't. You need to rest." pleaded Finn.

But the girl shook her head a little, wincing at the action, and kept trying to breath in enough to speak. Finally, "S-San-" forced its way past her tight vocal cords. Finn's head perked up and he leaned in. Rachel tried again, taking a more even breath this time. "San-tana. S-S-San. Santan-a." Then she reeled back into a coughing fit before passing out into a sick-induced sleep. But Finn had caught it, and was back on his feet and running a hand through his hair as he tried to figure out what it meant.

"Santana. Santana. That's gotta be a name. A friend? But why would- Wait a moment." He quickly rose up to the top shelf above Kurt's desk, where the young man had hidden Rachel's phone. Picking it up without even thinking of how he was able to do so, it took him a good ten minutes to figure out how to get to Rachel's list of contacts, and when Kurt came back in he had to quickly put the phone back and wait for Kurt to leave again, deciding to call the hospital as he waited for the soup to cool down, before he was able to scroll down and find the name Santana Lopez. There was no number, but there was an address listed. Another 10 minutes, counting the time he needed to set the phone down again as Kurt came back in order to feed Rachel.

The girl managed to get down half the bowl before she shook her head, refusing to eat any more. Kurt left to wash the bowl out, and Finn opened up the Navigation app he had managed to find right before Kurt had come back. Thankfully, this Santana's address was already saved, and it was from Rachel's dorm to the intended location. Without a second thought he looked to Rachel.

"I have no idea who this girl is, but I think you think she can help. I _swear_I'm gonna fix this, Rachel. Just- Just hold tight, okay? Everything will be okay." With that he was through the window, again not even taking time to question how he was able to take the cellphone with him, and flew as fast as he could to where the app was directing him.

Santana was outside, working in her back garden in torn up jeans a red wife-beater. Raza was laid out a few yards from her in the last rays of the high noon sun, and as content as they both seemed there was an obvious amount of tension playing between the two. Finn arrived to find the tan-skinned woman tearing up what he could only assume were weeds and a black cat that had its back turned to said woman.

The moment he was in the backyard, though, the cat was standing up and hissing at him. He didn't quite "land" yet, and raised his hands up in a sign of peace. The woman, who he had to assume was Santana, whipped her head around and glared straight at him. Before he could make any other move she was also on her feet, pointing a slim stick of wood at him. He didn't know what the stick was, but he got a bad feeling about it, so he kept his distance.

"What do you want, ghost? And- Why- no, how are you holding a cellphone?" asked the woman, still looking defensive and irate. The cat seemed to calm down, however, and sat down, bright green eyes also staring straight at him. He racked his nonexistent brain for what questions to answer (he hadn't even really noticed the phone thing), sputtered for a moment, then finally just shook his head and replied,

"I- Okay. So this is gonna probably sound really strange but I need your help-"

"Por el amor de Dioses what the fuck is with all these ghosts lately?" interrupted the woman, making Finn frown and furrow his brows in both annoyance and confusion. He trudged on, though, remembering Rachel small and frail in bed.

"Um, I don't know what that means, or what you're talking about, but is your name Santana?" Part of him hoped she wasn't, but on the other hand the sooner he could find the woman the better. The woman in front of him_immediately _became suspicious, and Finn wondered if she was a cop, or something of that nature, because he could really respect a woman like that.

"And if I am…?" she asked with narrowed eyes and a deep scowl. But the ghost just grinned in pure relief, his shoulders sagging a little.

"Oh thank the Lord. Okay. You're friends with Rachel, right? Rachel Berry?" Out of the corner of his eye he saw the black cat with a white leg perk up and turn its head to look at Santana, but was quickly turned back to the conversation at hand when she replied with,

"…Not really…" She seemed… unsure? No, that wasn't it, decided Finn. But she wasn't confident about her answer. He may not have been the brightest bulb in the marquee, but he had always been pretty good at following his gut when it came to reading people. It was what had made me a good detective. But still…

"Oh… um… Okay. But you know her, right?" He hoped he didn't sound too desperate. On the other hand, he sort of was…

The woman finally lowered her wand and nodded slowly, still looking suspicious as all hell, but glancing at her cat before looking back to the ghost. "Sure…"

The deceased detective decided to take what he could get and got straight to the point. "Right, okay. Then she really needs your help. Well I mean, she needs help in general, actually, but she was muttering your name a lot and I just really got the feeling that it was important somehow."

The cat was staring intently at Santana, and the woman, in turn, seemed to refuse to meet its gaze. Instead she kept her eyes on Finn. They had lost some of their suspicion, but were no less dangerous looking. "Help how?"

"She's sick."

Santana scoffed, shook her head, and began turning back to her gardens. "There are doctors for that, Casper."

Finn finally landed on the ground and took a step forward, hands out almost pleadingly. "No, I mean, she's _really _sick. And it just came completely outta left field. Last night she was completely fine and talking with some of her friends and then this morning she woke up and was all… She's all pale, and coughing a lot, and she can't keep her eyes open, and she threw up four times already last time I checked. She's super small, so I'm pretty sure that's even worse than for a normal sized person."

The air suddenly got incredible tense, and Raza's fur on her spine stood on end. But Santana stayed turned away and crossed her arms, shrugging as nonchalantly as she could manage. "She needs to see a doctor…"

"But-"

The witch turned her head to glare at the ghost. "No. Stop. I'm being serious. Get her to see a doctor first, and if they can't do anything then I'll… maybe help. Or something…" She shook her head. "I'm not wasting my time on like, the flu or whatever."

Before Finn could get a retort out, Raza was shifting right before his eyes and looking absolutely ticked. While the dead man doubled back and stared in shock, she went to town on her mistress, fists clenched and eyes bright. "Are you even _listening _to yourself right now?"

Santana didn't turn to look at her, but her whole body went rigid, and her hands on her arms tightened.

"Santana, please_! Pozhaluĭsta!_"

"Doctor first," was the tight, stubborn reply.

Raza growled, looking somewhere between agitated and forlorn. She turned to Finn, relaxing her posture as she sighed heavily. "Can her roommate get her to a doctor today?"

Having a question directed at him snapped Finn out of his revere, and he looked between the woman and girl in front of him - one with frustration and the other with both confusion and gratefulness. At least someone here besides him was looking out for Rachel. Even if it was, apparently, a cat-thing.

He nodded. "Yeah. I think her roommate was planning on doing that anyway. He was on the phone with the clinic before or something. I'll head back and see what the situation is."

"Alright. Come back when you know?"

Finn nodded, shooting Santana a glare before flying off without another word. The witch knelt back down and began working again, refusing to look at the cat in human form burning holes into her back. "Don't," she muttered just loud enough for Raza's sensitive ears to catch it. "I know, okay? Don't even say it."

Raza worked her tightened jaw, swallowing thickly before taking a step forward. "If you know then why are you doing this? Why do you _keep _doing this?" She was trying, okay? She was trying desperately to understand what was going through her mistress's head, but for once she just could not get a handle on where the woman was coming from. It was disconcerting and the familiar didn't like it.

Santana drove her trowel into the earth roughly, her movements jerky and lacking their usual grace and dexterity. "Because this was the shit I was talking about, Raz! Stupid shit that always happens when perfectly normal, good people spend too much fucking time around me, okay? The less she's near me the better off she is!"

Raza stomped her foot, shaking her head fiercely. "That was SIX YEARS ago! I can't believe you're still so stuck on it! It had NOTHING to do with you!"

"Just drop it, Raza…"

But the cat just shook her head again. "No, I can't, Santana. I just can't. Something bad is wrong with Rachel. I _know _you wanna help but you're just- you're being such a damn _coward _and so fucking stubborn!"

Finally Santana stood up, twisting around and suddenly getting into the familiar's personal space, glaring heatedly down at her, nostrils flaring. Raza's shoulder's dipped down and she almost ducked her head on pure reflex, but swallowed down her instincts and met her mistress's eyes head-on. It was terrifying, if she was being honest.

"If you're so fucking worked up over it then _you _can go hunt the little midget down and _you _can do something about it," hissed the witch challengingly. "Otherwise _fuck off _and go back to sunbathing!"

The two stood there, both breathing heavily. Raza could feel tears stinging her eyes but she focused on Santana's anger and took it as her own, drawing strength from the way it burned in her chest and made the hairs on the back of her neck and arms go stiff. "Fine," she replied, voice low. "I _will_." Then, before Santana could even comprehend what had been said, the cat had shifted again and was racing to through the backyard and to the front of the house.

Santana blinked, then snapped her head to see Raza disappear around a bush near the walkway. "_What!" _She ran to the front, but the cat was already long gone. Her hands flew up into her hair, tied back into a loose ponytail, and she muttered several Spanish explicatives. "FUCK!" she finally screamed, kicking the side of the wrought-iron fence next to her. "Fuck, fuck, fuck! Shit." Twisting around on her heel she stormed into the house, slamming the door behind her. A crash was heard from inside.

By the time Finn was able to get back the dorm room Kurt was pacing back and forth angrily on the phone and Rachel was looking no better than she had a couple of hours ago.

"It's definitely not the flu, Cedes. There's no way. Those pathetic excuses for doctors are utterly useless and can't see past their obnoxious white coats and horribly gelled hair. I'm calling her fathers. Maybe they can help somehow. Either way she shouldn't be in the dorms, and I think staying in a real bed with access to real food would be best." The moment he had said goodbye and goodnight to Mercedes he was walking out the door and dialing the Berry number.

Finn quickly hid the cellphone back where he had gotten it and went over to the girl's bedside. She was still unconscious, which worried him, and still looking just as pale and sickly as she had when he had left her. He didn't know why he cared so much about this young woman, but he did. He felt protective of her, for whatever reason, and either way he couldn't shake the feeling that this was, somehow, at least partially, his fault. She had been so willing to help him on some mindless venture without even _knowing _him _at all._ It was only right that he try to help her now.

Kurt came back into the room, looking utterly exhausted, but a bit more relieved. He went over to Rachel's side, and Finn moved over quickly out of habit more than anything. Taking the small woman's hands, Kurt didn't try to hide how worried he was. "Rachie, hun? Can you wake up for me for just a few seconds?"

The brunette groaned, coughing hoarsely before she forced her eyes open just enough to see the anxious expressions of both Finn and her best friend. "K-kurt?"

The young man gave a watery smile. "It's me, Elphie. Listen, your daddies are gonna come and pick you up tomorrow, okay? Those sad excuses for physicians are idiots, and I won't have you suffering in these cramped little dorms with these overly stiff mattresses for any longer than is necessary. You'll be safe and comfy at home by noon tomorrow, and Mercedes and I will try and visit you while your dads are working. Does that sound okay?"

Rachel smiled weakly, nodding her head just a bit before drifting off to sleep.

"You're gonna be okay, Rachie," whispered the tired man. "I promise…" Sighing heavily, he took out his cellphone once again and headed out to the lounge. He needed to call Blaine.

The moment the man was out of the room and the door was closed, a black cat with a white right foreleg emerged from Rachel's closet. Finn took a step towards it, and it quickly shifted into a young girl with short black hair and black clothing, hands up. "Don't freak out." she said in a quick whisper. The detective recognized her quickly, and stepped back with a nod.

"You were at Santana's," he said. "Who are you? _What _are you?"

"I'm Raza. Santana's cat- er, well, her familiar, technically. But still."

He considered staying angry, but realized that he was angry with Santana, not her… cat. "Right… Why are you here?"

Cautiously Raza took a few steps towards Rachel's bed, studying the stricken girl before looking back to Finn. "I can figure out what's wrong with her. And maybe help. I don't know yet. But I need time. Can you like, just make sure her roommate doesn't come back?"

"And how am I supposed to that?"

Raza just shrugged. Finn didn't look particularly impressed, but he went through the door and left the two alone. The cat, or whatever, had already proved she wanted to help Rachel earlier, so he would trust her for now.

Once the ghost had left the room, the familiar shifted again and jumped up onto the bed. Carefully, with soft steps, she made her way onto Rachel's chest, her front feet resting on the girl's clavicles. Leaning forward just enough to rest her nose against Rachel's, the cat's eyes glowed a soft green.

_There's black everywhere, and it's cold- freezing- and her skin feels like needles are prickling everywhere. Her heart hurts. It physically hurts and it feels like a strain to breath. She has a pounding headache, and her lungs feel like they're being constricted, just like her throat. Everything hurts and burns and is cold and it's like she's being pushed down and-_

Raza was physically thrown back; rolling over Rachel's blanketed legs before coming to stop and panting heavily. Her right foreleg was numb and her head hurt, but otherwise she figured she'd be okay. _Cursed. She's been cursed. Rachel's been cursed, Santana's being stubborn, there's a ghost that's somehow involved but I don't think is the cause, and I'm just a little familiar with not nearly enough energy or strength to fix any of this alone. _Her breathing had just evened out as Finn came flying through the door, eyes wide and alert as he spotted the cat.

"He's coming back. Quick, hide!"

Ignoring the way her head throbbed, Raza wasted no time in scurrying off the bed and diving back into the closet. She had just managed to crouch safely between Rachel's shoes and backpack when Kurt came walking into the door. He glanced at Rachel, then grabbed his shower supplies and a dark blue robe before heading back out again.

Both Finn and Raza let out a relieved breath before the cat came out of hiding, shifting again to human form and looking up at the ghost. "She's been cursed."

"WHAT?"

"Shhhhh!"

Finn's hands clenched and his eyes narrowed. "No one but Rachel and like, you and that Santana girl can hear me. Don't tell me to be quiet after hearing something like that."

Raza scoffed, and for a moment Finn was reminded that this was that woman's pet, or something. "Uh, no. You aren't even _trying _to hide yourself. Anyone with even vague spiritual awareness could probably hear you. So keep it down." Finn rolled his eyes.

"Fine. But what's this about a curse? What do you mean?"

The girl shrugged, crossing her arms helplessly. "Exactly what I said. She's been cursed. I have no idea by what, or how, or who, or anything else, though."

"Can you fix it?"

Raza bit her lip, shaking her head and drawing into herself a bit. "Um…no… I'm not- I'm not strong enough. I need Santana… I'm just her familiar." The ghost groaned, running a hand through his hair and looking up the ceiling.

"Great… So…now what?"

Scratching her neck, the familiar replied. "Now… Now I need to convince Santana to stop being a stubborn bitch and help… They're moving Rachel to her fathers' house tomorrow, right?"

Finn nodded.

"Okay. I'll work on my mistress, and you like, try to get a hold of me as soon as you know she's gonna be alone. I have no idea how much time Santana will need, but it'll be at least an hour. For now just… just stand guard, or something. And watch her."

Another stiff, assured nod and Raza let herself relax a little. If nothing else the ghost seemed, well, willing to work with her. Which was more than she could say for a certain witch right now… Mentally shaking those thoughts away, she headed to the open window. Then Finn spoke.

"The only reason I'm letting that woman near Rachel is because Rachel seems to really want her, and for whatever reason I just feel like she can help. That's it."

Raza paused, half kneeling on the sill. "I know… And I appreciate that. Santana is…" Raza sighed, letting out a small chuckle. "She's not bad… She really isn't. She's got this really, really big heart for like, _everything, _but she's also got a really big mouth and 99.9% of the time her mouth opens up before her heart can…" Looking back the ghost, Raza offered a small smile. "I'll see you tomorrow?"

Another nod from Finn, and then she turned completely black, flitting through the window screen and vanishing into the night.

Kurt returned not long after and went straight to bed after tucking Rachel in and checking her temperature one last. Finn sighed heavily; he sat down on the chair he had stayed in last night, and crossed her arms over his chest. This time, though, he remained completely awake and alert for the remainder of the night and well into the morning.

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((Translations:

Pozhaluĭsta- Please (Russian)

Por el amor de Dioses - For the love of the Gods (Spanish)))


	5. Chapter 5

Title: Bad Influence

Author: Foxchaos

Fandom: Glee (Au!)

Pairing: Pezberry (and probs some others along the way)

Chapter 5: "Thus Santana Finds Her Lost Cat, Said Cat Just Wants to Cuddle, Rachel Has a Curse, and Everything Gets More Complicated"

Rated M, for Santana's vulgarity and future perverseness (and possible sexytimes?)

_Word Count: +3,000_

_((A/N: I battled with myself for basically forever over how to do the purification process or whatever you'd like to call it. I'm a in-training pagan/witch myself, so I try to keep things as… well not completely realistic because this is fiction, but a practical mix between real witchcraft and more Charmed/Harry Potter magical happenings. I also try to avoid certain cliches. Anyway, many thanks to dear Apathyempathy for putting up with me and supporting me, even when she breaks my heart with her beautiful angst fics. Onwards to chapter 6.))_

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Santana was pretty much in panic mode as she paused where she was on the corner of East 14th and 2nd Avenue. She was trying to maintain her composure, but all she could think about was finding Raza dead and maimed and bloody and dead or worse, not finding Raza at all ever again. _No. Not happening. I have not put up with your crazy addictions and horrible sense of humor for 15 years to lose you over some stupid, pointless fight because we're both really fucking stubborn and just- Fuck Raza I swear to every God I've ever worked with- if you're dead I will hunt your spirit down, bring you back to life, and kill you myself! Or-or- something!_

Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes and she clamped them shut, shaking her head vigorously and looking around the relatively empty street. It was dark out by now, the sun having just set completely over the horizon, and the witch knew that she needed to find her familiar as soon as possible, before things more dangerous than drunken humans and speeding cars made their way into the night.

She took out a short leather cord with a tiny glass vial attached to the end of it. Inside the vial was a small, black strand of fur. She stepped over to the side of the sidewalk and out of the way of the few people milling about and let the cord hang down from her hand. She focused on finding Raza; narrowed all her thoughts into that one, singular goal, and the vial suddenly shifted to her right, straining against the length of leather and Santana's grip.

Without even questioning it the tanned witch hurried down the narrow alley, and when the cord slacked again she stopped. Looking around carefully in the dark space she called out, "Raza…? Raza, where are you?" Then she waited, ears straining for even the smallest of sounds that didn't resemble the city noise. She was just about to give up and keep moving when she heard it.

"Rreooww…"

It was so soft and weak sounding that Santana had almost chalked it up to her imagination, but when she turned to face the small dumpster just to her left, she saw an all too familiar black cat with a signature white leg slowly make its way into her line of sight. The cat looked exhausted, body staying low to the ground with its ears lowered and tail hanging limply behind it. Immediately Santana swooped down and picked the cat up, hugging it close to her and allowing some of the tears that had been fighting their way into her eyes to fall. "Lo siento, Raza. Lo siento mucho," she mumbled into Raza's soft fur, keeping her close as the pressure in her chest finally began to loosen up. "Que me asusto mucho…"

Raza just buried her head in the crook of Santana's neck and purred heavily, her body completely limp in the woman's arms.

Taking a deep breath, Santana stepped back into the shadows, letting out a relieved, tired sigh. "Alright… Alright… Let's go home, si? You can tell me what happened back at the house." With that she muttered a short chant under her breath, and a thin green ring of light appeared around Raza's right paw before they both turned completely black and merged into the shadows of the alley.

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Reemerging in the backyard in the shadows of the Lopez House, Santana stepped onto the porch and unlocked the door, walking in through the kitchen, Raza still in her arms with her eyes closed. She dropped the dowser onto the counter as she walked passed it and headed to the living room.

Taking a seat on her leather armchair, Santana leaned back, moving Raza up a bit further on her lap, and sighing. "Raz, we're home," she said lightly, moving her arms a bit to shake the cat gently. All she got in return was some light clawing to her arms and a small head pushing into the crook of her elbow. The witch smiled, shaking her head. "Raza… You need to wake up so that we can talk… This conversation _is_ happening." More clawing, and Raza rolled onto her side so that her legs were pressed into Santana's taunt stomach. Sighing again, the tanned woman leaned back further into her chair. "Fine, I'll start."

The cat kneaded her claws into Santana's stomach, and the witch went on. "I'm sorry for being a bitch to you lately. I know it's kinda my thing, but it shouldn't be with you. …Well, like… Not like that. I know you're not like, _trying _to be a brat about this, but you gotta understand… Rachel seems like a pretty good kid… She doesn't need me fucking up her life, alright?" She was interrupted when she felt the cat moving again, and looked down to see Raza sitting up on her lap, then shifting to her human form, moving so that her legs were both on one side of Santana's thigh and her head against the witch's shoulder. Santana wrapped her arms loosely around the small girl.

"She's been cursed…"

The arms tightened. "_What_?"

Raza shrugged helplessly. "Rachel's been cursed," she mumbled tiredly. "Dunno by who, or what it is… Jus' that it's really strong. I got thrown out pretty quick." She shoved her head under Santana's chin and closed her eyes again, curling up on the woman's lap.

"Shit… This is exactly what I was-"

Suddenly the cat was straightening up and frowning at her mistress, eyes narrowed. "No. No, no, no. This isn't your fault at all. And I'm gonna keep saying that until it finally sinks through your stupid thick skull."

Santana snorted, flicking Raza's nose and making her face scrunch up, and then sneeze. "Chill out, gata. Just- Just give me a moment to think." The familiar nodded, shoulders sinking and back slouching as she played with the silver necklace the witch was wearing along with her choker. She was stopped by a tanned hand grabbing hers, and looked up.

"Will you stop that? Seriously."

"It's shiny and m'tired…"

The taller woman rolled her eyes. "Let's say, theoretically, I wanted to like… fix this. I couldn't anyway. There's no way for me to get into her dorm long enough to figure out what the issue is and actually do anything about it."

The cat replied quickly. "She's gonna be at her fathers' house by tomorrow morning. …Her roommate called them."

"…And the doctor…?"

A shrug. "They think it's the flu."

A scoff. "Of-fucking-course they do."

Raza shifted back, placing her front paws on Santana's chest and pushing her face against the woman's chin and into the crook of her neck. The witch didn't bother fighting it. She just stroked her hand down the cat's spine as she tried to put all her thoughts and inhibitions into perspective. Finally, with a long, drawn-out sigh, she let her head fall back against the chair.

"Alright. Okay. I'll… Aye Dioses this is such a bad idea… I'll help, okay?" Raza immediately began to purr loudly, settling herself down half on Santana's lap and half up on her chest, head resting against the witch's collarbones. "Yeah, yeah… Purr it up while you can, you obnoxious pequeño monstruo…" Despite her words she kept petting the familiar, and settled into the chair a little more comfortably. Ignoring the fact that she didn't feel like getting up right now, she also didn't have the heart to make Raza move. The familiar was exhausted, she knew, and would probably need to feed off Santana's energy directly before they did anything tomorrow in order to be up for something as heavy as lifting a curse.

"We'll figure something out. I'll try to help the little hobbit. But for now, you need to sleep. I'll wake you up in a little bit."

Raza was pretty much already out, however, and didn't hear anything beyond the light rumble in Santana's chest and her heart beating steadily.

* * *

She was leaning against the counter, back to the living room, with Raza in her arms like a baby and seemingly nibbling on her index finger when Finn appeared in front of her, a hurried and anxious look twisting his pale features. "Her dads just left the house, and her two friends are in class or at work. You have at least two hours before anyone else is there." The pale blue light that had been outlining Santana's finger vanished as Raza twisted in her arms and jumped down, shifting to her human disguise as she hit the ground. Finn went on. "And she got worse overnight. I watched. She threw up again this morning. I- I don't even know how she can still throw anything up. It's really just all dry heaving."

Raza turned to look at the witch pleadingly, and Santana pinched the bridge of her nose before letting out a rush of air and nodding. "Alright. Okay. Raza, get my things, Casper tell me everything you know in as much detail as you can possibly manage with that see-through head of yours."

The familiar was out the kitchen and up the stairs in a flash as Finn, not bothering to be offended at the moment, put his years of officer and detective experience to use, explaining everything he had observed as the woman headed for the living room, grabbing her keys off the counter. "Her temperature was at 103 this morning, she's not even sweating much due to dehydration, and about every 20 minutes to half hour she'll start coughing and hacking. No blood, though."

Santana reached her small garage and unlocked the padlock, flipping the latch and pushing up the old door to reveal a _Kawasaki Ninja_ 250, black, with red tribal decals sweeping across its body. Despite the dusty and cluttered garage the motorcycle looked to be in perfect condition. "She shakes a lot," continued the ghost. "Like the chills, but it looks like it's coming from her chest more than her entire body. She's really pale, and her eyes are pretty glassed over whenever she's able to open them. And when she does open them she can't do much but mumble deliriously. Yesterday she had moments of lucidity, today she's completely out of it."

Raza bounded out the door just as Santana had rolled her bike out and was locking up the garage again. The cat handed her mistress her black backpack and leather jacket before shifting and jumping into Santana's arms. Straddling the bike, Santana zipped up her jacket with Raza situated in the front, head poking out from above the partially zipped zipper. She put on her black, sleek helmet, turned the bike on, and revved it. "How have her parents not noticed that?" she asked as she kicked off.

"Whenever they're in the room everything calms down and it just looks like she's asleep with a fever."

"And her roommate?"

"He's definitely more aware than they are."

She was speeding down the mostly empty street, headed to the Berry house now. Finn flying alongside them, looking like he wanted to ask if she knew where she was going but thinking better of it.

Santana was just glad she had been to the house before and still vaguely remembered the address.

* * *

Emerging from the shadows inside Rachel's darkened room, Santana pulled off her helmet and unzipped her jacket, allowing Raza to fall down and land on her feet. Finn came through the window, watching as the witch immediately made her way to the smaller girl's bedside. She put her hand lightly on Rachel's forehead, frowning at how hot to the touch the girl was and at the sound of the raspy, uneven breathing shuddering in and out of her chest. She pulled back the covers a bit, causing the younger woman to whimper pathetically and curl up into a tight ball, a sharp and hollow cough choking its way up her throat as she did so. She shivered, and Santana couldn't keep the worry from furrowing her brows and etching a frown on her lips. "Raza, come here. See if you can calm her down a bit while I set up," spoke the witch softly, but sternly.

The cat jumped up onto the bed, moving over Rachel so that she could touch her forehead to the girl's, her eyes glowing a pale soft green as she began to purr rhythmically.

"Is there anything I can do?" asked Finn from his place next to the window.

Santana was already pulling things out of her bag and setting them on a cleared area of the floor. "Yeah, stay outta the way and make sure no one walks in." The ghost just nodded and drifted over to the door, turning his back to it and crossing his arms as if to stand guard. He kept a sharp eye on everything the witch did, not completely trusting her but not knowing any other options.

Four white candles, a short, silver dagger, her wand, a jar of sea salt, and a jar of sage, along with a small bowl and several matches made up the contents of the bag, and without wasting any time she was setting the candles in a large circle as she continued her preparations. Lighting the candles, murmuring a small prayer to the coinciding direction each time she did so, Santana then poured some of the sage into the bowl and set to the side lighting that as well. Then she stood up and went back over to Rachel, who had calmed down enough to stop shivering so badly and uncurl herself. Carefully, Santana picked the smaller girl up and laid her down in the center of the circle.

The smell of sage was growing in the air, and Rachel seemed to be having trouble breathing, coughing lightly every so often and wincing each time, her face twisted in pain and flushed with exhaustion. Santana sat down at the front of Rachel's head, laying it gently on her folded legs and brushing her thumb over the pale girl's cheek. "Shhhh…, shhhhh…" she cooed. "You're alright, Rachel. You're gonna be just fine." Rachel whimpered, her breathing growing heavier and erratic for a moment. "Try an' take deep breaths, chica," coaxed the witch softly. "Deep breaths."

Eyes fluttering and hands flexing at her side, the singer started to become more aware, and almost immediately began trying to thrash around as panic flashed across her features. Without a word Raza was down from the bed and on Rachel's chest, eyes glowing stronger now. Rachel went completely still the moment the cat was on her chest, as though pinned down by some invisible force. Her fingers still flexed but she was unable to move anything more under the intense gaze the familiar was directing at her.

Not wasting any more time, Santana took up the silver athame and cast a sacred circle around them before setting the dagger aside and picking up her wand. The candles seemed to get brighter, the flames just a little longer, and as she began outlining a pentacle over Rachel over and over again with her wand she started chanting, quietly but firmly, in Latin.

Raza's eyes had gotten much brighter, and she had opened her mouth now; just a bit as she began taking in deep, even breaths.

Rachel had started to sweat more, and seemed to get hotter. She was whimpering and gasping for air, sobbing as best as her tight chest and throat would let her and all around looking terrified and in pain as her eyes clenched shut tightly and a shudder ran through her chest. She coughed suddenly – a painful hacking sound – and slowly a kind of black vapor began drifting from her gaping mouth. The vapor was quickly drawn into Raza's mouth, and the cat continued taking large, unhindered breaths through her mouth and out her nose.

Santana continued to chant, making the pentacle with her wand and stroking the girl's cheek reassuringly with her thumb, hand cupping the brunette's head.

The vapor began to come out thicker, and more erratic as the candles flickered, then suddenly grew in strength, and small, bright green rings of light began to appear around Raza's right leg, from her foot and moving up.

Finally, much to Santana's relief, the girl on her lap took a deep, clear breath in, filling her lungs to full capacity before letting the air out in a sudden rush, forcing a thick stream of the black, twisting vapor out of her chest and directly into the cat atop her. Immediately the brunette was calm, her face relaxing and muscles going completely limp as her breathing evened out and the rasping soothed out.

Raza had closed her jaws tightly the moment all the vapor had entered her lips, and stumbled off of Rachel, hunching down and convulsing. She looked to be choking, but kept her mouth closed. Her eyes had shut tightly, but the rings on her legs flashed brighter, and Santana watched all of this intently, unconsciously continuing to stroke Rachel's cheeks, now with both hands. As Raza's back arched up and her fur stiffened right as she sucked in air through her teeth, the witch quickly grabbed the jar that had been holding the sage and poured sea salt into it before reaching it out to the struggling cat.

"Raza, into the jar, now," she ordered, and the cat convulsed again before a shudder ran down her spine and she opened her mouth, hacking and coughing as black sludge came up from her throat and into the jar. When she was sure it was all in, Santana tightened the jar's lid quickly. The familiar collapsed to the ground and onto her side, eyes closed and breathing heavy; worn out, but otherwise appearing to be fine.

Finn had been so bound by what had been occurring right before his eyes that he didn't notice the door opening before it was too late, a shocked and confused Kurt standing there. "What in the name of Barbara is-!"

"Freeze!" yelled Santana before he could even finish, an empty hand open and outstretched towards him. The young man stopped mid-step and mid-sentence, body and features completely frozen, eyes glazed over and sightless.

* * *

_Vague translations:_

_Lo siento, Raza. Lo siento mucho - I'm sorry, Raza. I'm so sorry.  
_

_Que me asusto mucho - You scared me so much (if this is wrong, feel free to properly translate for me)  
_

_pequeño monstruo - little monster  
_


	6. A Brief Interlude: One

Title: Bad Influence

Author: Foxchaos

Fandom: Glee (Au!)

Pairing: Pezberry (and probs some others along the way)

Interlude: "This is where we take a trip to the past and learn a little more about the relationship between a certain witch and her cat."

Rated M, for Santana's vulgarity

_Word Count: ~3,000_

_((A/N: Un'beta'd. Also, if the ages don't match up, please feel free to correct me. Raza should always be about 6-7 years younger than Santana. Anyway, enjoy?))_

* * *

__Santana is eight when her abuelita visits her and her family in California with a little black kitten in hand and says "I spoke with your mami and papi, and we agree that you're ready to have a familiar." Of course she knows what that is, and why she needs one, but she has a hard time believing her papi is actually going to let this happen. He's never been particularly thrilled about Santana inheriting his family's peculiar bloodline, and though he's never outright stopped her from learning about it from her abuelita, he also hasn't always been subtle about hinting that she should be looking into other interests.

As if being able to read Santana's skepticism, the older woman smiles, handing the kitten to Santana, who takes it as carefully as an eight-year-old can manage. "I promise that he is okay with this. Whether you choose to follow in my footsteps or not, a familiar is a wonderful guide and friend. Now, I believe this little one needs a name, yes?"

Santana nods, smiling down at the little ball of fluff mewling in her arms and kneading tiny paws and little claws into her chest. She takes a moment to think, and then remembers the book they're reading in school about a little boy and his pet cat Raza who get into all kinds of mischief and adventures, and decides it's perfect. "Raza", she says, still just looking down at the bright-eyed kitten and stroking the top of its head with her free hand. Her abuelita smiles, but replies,

"Isn't that a boy's name, Nieta? This one is a girl."

The girl just shrugs in reply, and the woman sighs thoughtful.

"Very well. Raza, then. And what of her secret name?"

Santana grins toothily up at her Abuelita. "I can't tell you that, Abuelita. Es un secreto!"

Her abuelita laughs and nods, and Santana hurries off to show her mami and papi her new kitty.

* * *

When she was 12 her familiar was technically an adult cat, but was just starting to figure out her human form and was about as graceful as her kitte form had been. It made Santana laugh when Raza, who looked about 5 or 6 in this form, tried running and jumping to keep up with Santana, who always said that unless the familiar could keep up, she wasn't allowed to come with her on her adventures with her friends. As far as her friends knew, Raza was her younger cousin that her family had taken in, and Santana was in charge of babysitting her pretty much all the time.

Thankfully, the cat, even in her human form, was still more graceful and capable than an actual human her supposed age, and usually didn't have any problems, except when water was involved, or there were dogs. This was generally written off as phobias, which was mostly true, but there was the one time that she actually hissed at Puck's black lab Duke and Santana had to swat her on the head and tell her to behave. Raza had pouted for the rest of the day until they got back to the house, where Santana picked her up the second she had shifted, sat her on her lap, and spent the next hour and a half petting her and telling her stories her abuelita had told her in the past.

Raza was perfectly content after that and decided to forgive the girl.

* * *

At 16 Santana was in high school, cheerleading, doing gymnastics, and still taking just as many lessons in witchcraft as her Abuelita would give her when she visited. By this point her papi had mostly given up on her wanting to really do much else, and was willing to help her out as well, so long as she kept up with her grades and other extracurricular activities. It was also the first time Santana encountered a Gremlin without the supervision of an adult, and the night that, if nothing else up to this point had, solidified her bond with Raza.

It had been a normal, windy night, and Santana was home alone. Her parents were out to dinner and it was a school night, so she couldn't go out and party like she otherwise would have been. She knew she could have invited Puck, Quinn, or Brittany over, but she actually felt like being alone for the night, and was using the opportunity to finish some school work before looking at the 'homework' her abuelita had mailed her. She was also fighting with her cat, and they weren't currently on speaking terms.

_"You never let me do anything!" Raza screamed; her human face twisting with a scowl and eyes shining with unshed tears._

_"You're MY familiar and you have to listen to ME. You can't just go out alone and do whatever you want!" Santana yelled back, already fed up with the conversation and walking away from it._

_"I can take care of myself! I hate being stuck in this house all the time unless you go out, and you're always with your friends or at school and I can't go with you and I'm so bored and lonely and you NEVER LISTEN!" Raza was crying now, and Santana had to bite her tongue and clench her fists to keep herself from running over to the smaller girl and holding her. She was being stubborn, she knew, but she didn't want to admit it, nor admit that she wasn't being fair to Raza. She knew her mami and papi always had lingering doubts about being able to handle the duel-nature of her life, and she refused to show any signs of being weak on the matter._

_She didn't reply to the familiar when she screamed "I hate you! I HATE YOU!", and instead went to her room to get some work done._

That had been almost two hours ago, and the guilt was starting to catch up. It made her chest feel tight, and she couldn't get the sound of Raza screaming that she hated her and sobbing out of her head. Finally, deciding that abuelita's homework could wait until she had made up with her cat, she got off her bed and headed downstairs, where she had last seen Raza.

The house was mostly dark, save for the microwave light on in the kitchen and a few candles flickering in the living room. She turned on the living room light, looking around for any signs of the black cat, and frowning when there were none. "Raza?" she called. "Raza, where are you?" Biting her lip, Santana walked into the dining room, turning that light on as well and scanning the area. "Raza, come on. You're right, okay? I've been a bitch to you lately and you deserve better. Get out here so we can talk about this."

Still no answer.

Santana could feel her chest tighten up even more. _Oh gods did she run away? Did I seriously make my familiar hate me and leave? Fuck fuck fuck! I'm so fucking STUPID. Fuck_. Santana could feel tears threatening to well up in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. "Raza, please. I'm sorry." She was seriously three seconds away from crying and calling up her papi when the lights started flickering. She tensed, tears drying up instantly. The lights flickered again, and she heard clattering in the kitchen. Tightening her hands into fists and wishing she had brought her wand down with her, the Latina slowly made her way into the kitchen.

When she got there, she swallowed a scream, eyes widening into saucers and skin paling just a touch. The microwave was flickering on and off, pots and pans were being thrown around, and the dishwasher sounded like it was about to explode. Steeling her nerves and putting on her best top-bitch scowl, she yelled, "HEY!" Everything stopped for a moment, before a large skillet flew at her head.

"FUCK!" she screamed, ducking down just in time to avoid it, and then having to practically leap out of the way of a knife that followed soon after._Holy shit this thing is actually trying to kill me and like a fucking moron I drove off my familiar and fucking shit this is bad-_ Another knife and a pot were sent at her and the lights were flashing on and off, and she could hear cackling coming from near the stove but couldn't actually see anything. She scrambled for the dining room, ducking down behind the large, heavy table and chairs.

Things got quiet again, but that didn't make Santana feel any safer. She took her phone out of her bra and began dialing her papi's number- or tried. Without warning the phone shut down, and she quickly dropped it, racing into the living room just as a chair tipped over behind her. She was willing to admit that she was terrified at this point. She had absolutely no idea how she was going to get out of this, much less unscarred. Just as the living room lights began to flicker on and off rapidly, there was a loud "RE-OOWW!" followed by insistent hissing as a black streak swooped past her and leaped at the entryway between the dining room and living room.

Santana watched as Raza tackled… something… taking it to the ground in a flurry of shouts and growls and a voice cursing in a language Santana couldn't understand. There was an obvious scuffle, and she couldn't tell exactly what was going on, but finally the cat seemed to manage to latch its mouth around something solid and bite down hard, pinning the thing under her.

Then it appeared; a pale red body, thin and gangly at best with no hair whatsoever and large, pointed ears. It wasn't very big- about the size of a toddler or so, and Raza had it by the neck, her eyes glowing green as she growled low in her throat. The lights flickered again and Santana came to her senses, quickly running over to the bookshelf where her papi's wand was resting and grabbing it, hurrying back over to her familiar and the creature whose neck she had managed to catch between her teeth.

Once she got closer, she recognized it as a Red Gremlin, and immediately felt like an idiot for not having realized it sooner. _Of course it's a Gremlin. It was a having a field day with anything even remotely electrical._ Standing over the two creatures, Santana bent down to softly run her hand over Raza's head and whispered, "Good girl. I'll be right back" before walking into the kitchen to grab an empty jar from the cabinet over the dishwasher. She unscrewed the lid and returned to the entryway, aiming the wand at the Gremlin, who was still struggling to get up despite the thin green light surrounding it, and spoke clearly, "Into the jar." The tip of the wand shown a soft blue, and the light was reflected around the Gremlin, replacing the green that had been there a moment ago. With an indignant shriek it flew into the jar, shrinking in size as it went, and Santana quickly screwed the lid on tightly to seal it. Despite its best efforts, the little red creature couldn't escape, and Santana set the jar down on a small table next to her.

It was then she noticed that Raza wasn't standing or sitting, but laying on her side and breathing abnormally, blood seeping slowly from her right shoulder. "Shit! Raza…" Kneeling down, Santana carefully picked up her familiar, who purred heavily in pain, but otherwise made no other sound or movement beyond breathing.

She went upstairs into her room, setting her papi's wand on her desk before laying Raza down on the blanket spread out over her comforter. Swallowing the lump in her throat and the wave of guilt that had come back full force (because despite being a total ass to her, Raza had still come back and possibly saved her life), Santana sat down next to the black cat, slowly stroking her head and down her side. "You need to shift, Raza", spoke Santana softly. "It'll be easier to get this cleaned up and wrapped if I don't have to work around your fur…" The cat groaned, but shifted. It was slower than the time it usually took her to make the change, which worried Santana.

Rolling Raza carefully on her stomach after removing the shirt, Santana grimaced at the damage that had been done. Deep claw marks ran over the right shoulder blade, and there was a shallow gouge in the shoulder, right over the deltoid. She stood up, walking quickly into her bathroom to grab some cleanser, salve, a wet cloth, and some wrappings, before sitting back down on the bed and biting her bottom lip. Before she could even begin, apologize, or anything, Raza spoke hoarsely,

"M'sorry…"

Santana's hand froze on its way to start cleaning off the dried blood, her brow furrowing. The familiar went on.

"I shouldn'ta left. Knew there was somethin' 'round. Shoulda stayed."

Santana could tell that Raza was exhausted, and wondered not only where she had been, but how fast she had been running in order to get back to the house to fight off a Gremlin that shouldn't have been able to get in. Then the actual content of Raza's mumbling hit her, and she frowned.

"Don't- Just- Don't you dare apologize. You have nothing, absolutely nothing, to apologize for." Santana began cleaning the wounds, being as careful as she could manage. Raza hissed, but didn't move away. The teen wasn't sure the cat could move away, to be honest, but didn't say anything about it.

"But I-"

"No. You just- I was a bitch to you for months. I all but ignored you when I didn't need you for Abuelita's homework and sometimes I didn't even bother feeding you and mami or papi had to, and I just- I mean, fuck Raza, you were right. You were so, so right." She didn't bother stopping the tears that slowly trailed down her cheeks as she continued to clean up the familiar's injuries. "Yeah you cause some trouble and you get under my feet, and sometimes you tell really lame jokes, and I don't necessarily care for the mice and birds you bring me but like-" Her throat tightened up at that point, and she really wished Brittany was here, because the girl was so much better at this kind of thing, and even if she didn't quite know why Santana also talked to her cat on a regular basis, at least she understood the idea. "You should hate me. I'm an _awful_ mistress. The worst."

A heavy silence filled the room as Santana started applying the salve and Raza stared into space, going over Santana's confession. The Latina was terrified that the cat would leave the moment she was able to. Not that she could blame her. She had just admitted to being a horrible mistress, after all.

"…You're not a bad m'stress…" The words were so quiet and mumbled Santana almost didn't catch them. She wanted to argue, but decided to let the familiar say her piece. "You're… hsss- You're young, and you got other things ta do, and you're all stressed out 'cause of school and stuff and… I haven't been that great of a familiar either. M'supposed to help you, not complain about not being allowed outside."

Santana shook her head. "It's not fair to keep you locked up here all the time. I'm always bitching to mami and papi to let me have more freedom and then I practically chain you to my bed." She heard Raza snort, and rolled her eyes. Clearly the cat was feeling better if she was able to stick her head in the gutter. She took it as a good sign. "Besides, it's not like everyone doesn't already know you." Santana was wrapping the wounds, and rolled Raza over so that the cat could sit up and allow her mistress easier access.

"It's not cool to have your ten-year-old 'cousin' hanging around", muttered Raza, but Santana just shook her head again.

"Whatever. I'm like the hottest bitch in this town. If I wanna bring my cousin along with me to shit, I can."

"I don't wanna embarrass you."

"You won't. …Well… you might. But not any more than Puck does on a regular basis, so its whatever."

She was finished wrapping Raza up, and before the cat could say or do anything else, was pulling her in, and scooting back against the headboard. The familiar didn't struggle, just allowed herself to be moved and shifted until she was sitting in-between Santana's legs, resting against the older girl's chest as an arm was wrapped around her waist and skilled fingers removed the banana from her head so that they could run through silky black hair. Sighing contently, Raza nuzzled into the crook of Santana's neck. "You're a good mistress, even if yer a jerk sometimes…"

Chuckling, Santana leaned back, continuing to pet Raza's hair softly. "And you're a pretty good familiar, even though you're a brat most of the time. Now go to sleep, kay?"

"S'only 10 o'clock."

"Yup, and if you plan on spending the day with Britt and I after school, you better get all your sleep in now." She didn't get a reply, but could feel the girl's breathing even out and allowed herself to relax completely. She had gotten a second chance to not screw things up with her familiar, and she was going to take it. Santana knew she'd probably still end up causing fights, and messing up, and making mistakes, but she was going try. She wasn't going to just take Raza for granted any more, and she promised herself – and the familiar sleeping against her- that she was going to do better. After tonight, she owed Raza at least that much.


	7. AUTHORS NOTE

Update of Bad Influence: by July 6th

First Chapter of Fallout Sequel: July 13th

Update of Sanctuary: July 20th

And then whatever happens inbetween. But damn I really need to get that shit done.

Truthfully writing, being creative in general, has been painful. Life has been painful, actually, this past 12 months. But if I don't start somewhere I won't get anything done that I want done. So.

There it is.

I apologize for the long length of time between chapters for... everything. My life has simply been taking turns I never expected, and I do need to take care of myself before sitting down to write, or draw, etc. But I'm getting there, and this summer is helping in some ways. So I've set the deadlines, and they will be met. Hopefully once I just getting the pace going it can keep rolling.

Thank you again for your loyalty,

FC


End file.
